Mon doux pays, ou etes-vous? 1927

Georges Rouault made this print, "Mon doux pays, ou etes-vous?" and the title translates to "My sweet country, where are you?". The whole thing is so tonal, like a dark dream. Rouault’s marks are so thick and heavy, like he's digging into the plate, wrestling with the image. You can almost feel the physical effort, the pressure he exerted. There’s this building in the background that's been sliced into four parts: a strange sense of collapse that mirrors what’s happening on the ground. The figures lying down look defeated, or exhausted. I find myself drawn to the heavy lines that surround the figures, they remind me of the leading in stained glass. He was briefly apprenticed to a glass painter which makes sense when you see how he traps the light within these dark lines. I think of Paula Rego, another master of dark humor, but Rouault takes it further, into the realm of the tragic. But that’s what makes it great, right? Art is a way of grappling with the world’s messiness.