Snow Plow 1967

Alex Colville’s painting, "Snow Plow," renders a winter scene with incredible precision, like a memory sharpened to an almost painful degree. Colville's technique is so smooth it’s almost invisible. Look closely, and you might see the ghost of his hand, but the painting almost feels like it emerged fully formed. The red snowplow cuts a striking figure against the muted palette of white, blue and grey. Notice the subtle textures of the snow, rendered with such detail, and the way the light catches the metal of the plow, worn by the elements. The paint is applied in thin, even layers, allowing the image to breathe. It’s almost photographic, but the careful composition and symbolic content separate it from mere documentation. This work makes me think of Gerhard Richter's paintings made from photographs, but Colville finds a kind of quiet drama in the everyday. It's a reminder that art doesn't always need to shout to be heard. It can whisper, and still leave a lasting impression.