The marches of summer 1939

René Magritte painted this curious canvas, The Marches of Summer, with oils, on a 73 x 60 cm surface. I find myself wondering what Magritte might have been thinking as he constructed this scene, which somehow manages to be both familiar and deeply unsettling. The sky’s a standard blue dotted with clouds and those blocky geometric forms, while the landscape is a flat plane of hard-edged shapes. It’s as if a child’s building blocks have invaded a classical landscape! Then there’s the fragmented sculpture in the foreground, a classical form but decidedly odd, cut off at the neck and thighs, evoking a sense of incompleteness and fragmentation. The smooth, almost porcelain texture of the sculpture contrasts with the more roughly painted background, creating a delightful tension between the artificial and the natural. The cool, muted palette contributes to the painting’s overall sense of calm and mystery. It reminds me of de Chirico’s dreamscapes, but with a uniquely Magrittean twist. We painters, we're always borrowing, riffing, remixing, to find our own way to see.