Thurst of Life 1990

Benny Andrews's collage painting, "Thirst of Life," feels like a little stage set for a play. The colors are bright, but also kind of muted, like an old memory struggling to stay vivid. I imagine Andrews, surrounded by scraps of paper, each holding its own secret. He picks them up, studies them, and then, snip, snip, snip, reshapes them into something new. The vase, a blank space, maybe representing the unknown, the potential for growth. The flowers, so strange and wonderful, with their mismatched patterns and textures, stretching towards the light. The fruit in the foreground bursts with juicy color, a promise of sweetness and fulfillment. But there's also a sense of precariousness, like they could roll right off the edge of the table. Andrews, with his intuitive composition, makes me feel the pleasure and uncertainty of being alive, the constant negotiation between desire and reality. It makes me think of Matisse's cut-outs—a similar spirit of play and reinvention.