Venice, The Little Bridge 1912

Maurice Prendergast made "Venice, The Little Bridge" with watercolor, and you can just imagine him there, setting up his easel on the Riva degli Schiavoni. The colors are these transparent washes, like memories fading in and out, ochres and blues suggesting the faded grandeur of the city. You can almost smell the dampness and hear the lapping of water. The bridge itself is rendered with these delicate, almost scribbled lines, barely holding together the architectural form. Prendergast, I bet, was less interested in perfect representation and more in capturing a feeling, a sense of place. It’s like he’s in conversation with the Impressionists, but with an American directness, a certain kind of roughness. The figures pop into view – little daubs of color – adding to the sense of bustling life. These aren't portraits; they're ghosts in the machine. The little dog in the foreground – what’s up with that? This reminds me of Bonnard or Vuillard, but Prendergast makes it his own. It’s all part of that ongoing discussion that artists have across time, echoing and responding to each other's visions.