White Birches c. 1908

This is Marsden Hartley’s ‘White Birches,’ and it’s easy to imagine him building up the paint in layers. I can almost see him working alla prima, wet on wet, pushing those colors around, making it up as he goes. I’m sure he was really feeling it. Look at the heavily worked surfaces with all those impastoed marks. This isn’t about a literal depiction of trees; it’s more about evoking a feeling. You know, the sensation of being surrounded by the verticality of a forest. There's a dialogue happening between the white verticals of the birch trees and the more chaotic brushwork in the background. The way the paint sits on the canvas is almost sculptural. It's like he's carving out the forms, not just painting them. It reminds me of work by Milton Avery, maybe even some of the Fauvist painters. Artists are always in conversation, riffing off each other. Ultimately, it's a beautiful, messy, and deeply felt piece. It celebrates the act of painting itself. It invites us to get lost in its texture and color, and to find our own meaning within its gestural landscape.