Zwanen 1904

Léon Spilliaert made this painting of swans with dark inks, and I see so much layering and adjustment. Look at the almost ghostly white bodies of the swans, bobbing on inky water, framed by a screen of green reeds and a dark forest in the background. I bet he was looking closely, making marks, stepping back, and then making more marks. Maybe he was going for something and then changed his mind. Sometimes the biggest act of faith in painting is allowing for constant change. You get a sense of Spilliaert in nature, maybe sketching quickly, then heading back to the studio to improvise on his observations. I like to think about how other painters inspire each other; it feels like Spilliaert might have been looking at James Ensor’s theatrical weirdness, mixed with a touch of Japanese printmaking for that graphic flatness. Artists are always in conversation, riffing off each other across time, and that exchange pushes everyone forward. It's not about getting it "right," but about finding a way to embrace the journey of not knowing.