Winter landscape 1907

Tadeusz Makowski's 'Winter Landscape' is a painting built from layered washes and thick strokes of muted colour. I imagine him outside in the cold, wrestling with the quick-drying paint, squinting at the light, trying to capture the scene through an act of translation. There's something really gutsy about the way he's applied the paint, thick in some areas, thin in others, creating a layered surface that feels both intentional and accidental. The colour palette is restrained, mostly greys and browns, with touches of white and soft blue peeking through. And down in the corner, there’s a glowing disk, a golden sun, or is it the moon? I think about other painters who’ve grappled with similar subjects, like Courbet or even Van Gogh, each finding their own way to express the sublime power of nature. Makowski's version feels deeply personal, like a quiet meditation on the beauty and solitude of winter. That little golden orb at the bottom gives the painting a sense of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always light to be found.