Stein on the Danube, Seen from the South 1913

Egon Schiele made Stein on the Danube, Seen from the South, but we don’t know exactly when. The first thing that strikes me is the way the whole scene seems built up from individual strokes, almost like a mosaic. Look at the river – it’s not a smooth, flowing surface, but a mass of little dabs of brown and green, like he’s trying to capture the very texture of the water. The color palette is muted, dominated by earthy browns, greens, and yellows. The buildings are rendered in a simplified, almost childlike manner, with little square windows and pointy roofs. The lines are confident, even when they are awkward. I’m thinking of Guston, or even a bit of Léger here. It’s like Schiele is saying, “I’m not interested in capturing a perfect likeness, but in conveying the essence of this place, its mood, its spirit.” It’s a reminder that art isn’t about imitation, but about interpretation, and that sometimes, the most powerful statements are made with the simplest of means.