Tundra 1961

Carl Heidenreich made this watercolour, called Tundra, at some point in his life between 1901 and 1965. Looking at it, I’m immediately struck by the way the colours bleed and blend; it's like watching weather systems collide. The blues, greens, and browns aren't neatly separated, but seem to merge into one another in a really fluid way. There’s this sense of controlled chaos, which I love. You can almost feel the wetness of the paint, the way it's allowed to drip and run, creating these organic shapes that evoke a landscape without actually depicting one. Notice how the pigment pools at the bottom of the image, those dark splodges that look like puddles on the ground? It's these kinds of details that really bring the artwork to life, making it feel dynamic and alive. This piece reminds me a little of Turner, the way he used watercolour to capture the sublime power of nature, but with a rawness and immediacy that feels very contemporary. For me, Tundra is a reminder that art is not about perfect representation, it is about capturing a feeling, an essence, a fleeting moment in time.