Red Hurricane 1969

Ronnie Landfield made "Red Hurricane" with paint, of course, sometime in his life. Look at the sweep of color, that off-white drifting into shades of red, orange, and pink. There's something dreamy and atmospheric, but then that saturated red bar at the bottom anchors it, like a horizon line made of pure feeling. I imagine Landfield, brush in hand, maybe a little bit unsure, layering these colors, letting them bleed into each other, searching for the right balance. That red bar is like a slap in the face, so immediate and physical. It reminds you that this is paint on a surface, not just a pretty picture. It's interesting when painters set up a kind of tension between representation and the pure materiality of paint. He's obviously looking at Rothko, maybe some early modernist landscapes, and saying, "I'm here too, adding my voice to the conversation." Painting is just that you know: A continuous discussion between artists across time. It's not about having the last word, but about keeping the dialogue alive.