Africa 9 1970

Robert Motherwell made Africa 9 with ink on paper, and the way the ink sits there, stark and unblended, feels decisive. It’s as if he's saying, “This is it, no going back.” The blacks are velvety, dense, and seem to absorb light, creating this incredible depth on a flat surface. You can almost feel the weight of the ink, especially in that large, looming shape at the top. It’s balanced by the horizontal line below, but not really—that shape feels like it's about to topple. Look closer, and you'll notice these little drips and splatters, like the ink had a life of its own. Motherwell’s work always reminds me of Franz Kline, another artist who wasn’t afraid of big, bold strokes. But Motherwell brings something else: a sense of vulnerability, like he's laying bare his raw emotions for us to see. It’s a reminder that art isn’t about perfection; it’s about process, feeling, and embracing the unexpected.