The Awning 2008

Editor: Here we have Frank Auerbach’s “The Awning,” created in 2008. I find the heavy impasto almost overwhelming, like a city built from pure paint. The colours vibrate, but… what is actually depicted here? What do you see in this piece? Curator: That's a brilliant observation. Overwhelming is a perfect word. When I look, I feel as if I'm not just looking at the painting, but *in* it, swimming in Auerbach's sensory experience. He uses those vibrant hues and dense textures, doesn't he, almost as if trying to wrestle the ephemeral, the fleeting nature of a place, into a lasting, tangible form. Have you ever felt the sun on brick like that intense orange and yellow in the piece? Or heard the echo in those alleyways? Editor: Yes, that makes a lot of sense! It’s not just *seeing* a place, but feeling it. But the awning… do you actually *see* one? I thought it was abstract until I read the title. Curator: I know, isn’t it fantastic? The 'awning' is almost beside the point. It’s there as a suggestion, a starting point, an anchor in reality for Auerbach's emotional response. It reminds me a little of how memories work, doesn't it? A kernel of truth exploding into layers of feeling. He captures a very personal sense of place. It's like staring directly into someone's memory of a bustling urban setting. It might even reflect Auerbach's memories from arriving to London as a child refugee, his new 'place'. Editor: I love the idea of a memory exploding, and the intensely personal sense of place. Now when I look at the brushstrokes, I think of the layers of time, experiences, and emotion piled onto a single image. Curator: Absolutely. It's a reminder that painting, like memory, isn’t just about faithful representation, but about feeling, about what it truly means to experience a place. We end up looking through someone else's heart, almost!