Flood 1985

Ivan Marchuk made this painting "Flood" with a technique that feels like he’s knitting the world together, thread by tiny thread. The surface is alive, teeming with intricate lines, each one a decision, a breath held and released. Look closely, and you'll see how these marks build up, creating a dense, almost tactile texture. It’s like a forest of paint, where every branch and twig is rendered with obsessive detail. The color palette is muted, almost monochrome, which gives the painting a melancholic, haunting quality. I keep thinking about Agnes Martin, but in a totally different mood. Where Martin is all about serenity, Marchuk is channeling something wilder, more untamed. It’s like he’s showing us the skeleton of the landscape, the raw, essential forms that remain when everything else is stripped away. Art isn't about answers, it's more like an ongoing conversation.