Sea 1921

Curator: Before us is David Burliuk's "Sea," created in 1921 using oil paint. It's currently held in a private collection. Editor: It's incredibly breezy, isn't it? I feel like I can smell the salt. There’s almost a postcard quality, but slightly roughed up. A very energetic little painting. Curator: Note the clear division of the canvas, a structured horizon, the sky occupying the upper portion, the sea, in the middle and a very distinctive, texturized area for the sand and the beach. Observe Burliuk’s manipulation of light—how it interacts with each surface. Editor: Yes, the light feels… splintered, somehow. Like the world is made of little reflective shards. And I love the way he hasn't just painted 'blue' for the sea; there’s turquoise, a dirty sort of green, strokes of almost violet. The beach itself almost feels more like a bruised landscape than anything calming. Curator: Precisely. This vibrant, almost discordant, palette reflects a clear expressionist leaning. Burliuk manipulates our perception, amplifying the emotional response to the seascape, as well as moving away from traditional forms, as a Modernist might. Editor: So much raw feeling packed into such a seemingly simple scene. Burliuk really makes you feel the churning of the ocean in your gut. There’s a touch of melancholy, though, a certain isolation despite the scene's liveliness, don't you think? Curator: An astute observation. The very pronounced brushstrokes are quite suggestive in their tactile presence. Beyond the represented subject, the painting’s material reality becomes crucial to the affect of the composition itself. Editor: True, it does hint at the relentless, almost brutal, energy of the sea. Almost like he’s saying “beauty can also be exhausting." Which, let's be honest, it often is. What a wonderful little tempest in a frame. Curator: Indeed. A successful exploration of the sublime through pure visual components. Editor: Makes you reconsider the sea and sky, doesn't it?