Liegende 1926

Otto Mueller made this painting of a reclining figure, sometime in the early 20th Century. The colours are muted, earthy, like it’s emerging from the shadows. It's a process of revealing rather than defining. Looking at the surface, you can almost feel the texture. The paint isn’t trying to hide itself. See the way the white of the dress is scumbled over the surface? It's thin in places, letting the underpainting peek through, thick in others, giving it a real physicality. The dark, almost charcoal-like marks that define the hair contrast with the soft blending of the skin tones, creating a tension between line and form. That splayed hand and foot is particularly interesting, the way they both touch the edges. Mueller reminds me a little of Paula Modersohn-Becker. Both artists shared a deep sensitivity to the human form and an earthy palette, but where Modersohn-Becker is all about solidity, Mueller is more ephemeral, capturing a fleeting moment of rest. Art is never really finished, it just keeps evolving with each new voice.