Number 7, 1951 1951

In 1951, Jackson Pollock made 'Number 7' using black enamel on canvas. Can you picture him, cigarette dangling from his lips, flinging paint with complete abandon? I feel like I can. The color palette here is minimal, but the painting is full of movement and energy. Look at how he flicked and dripped the paint across the canvas. The lines are so varied, some thick and bold, others thin and spidery. It’s like he’s captured a moment in time, a dance of the hand and the body. I can imagine Pollock wrestling with the canvas, each splash and dribble a response to some internal rhythm. Look at the way the paint pools in certain spots, creating these dense, almost sculptural areas. Then there are the delicate, almost hesitant drips that add a sense of fragility. Pollock’s work always makes me think about the physicality of painting, the sheer joy of getting lost in the material. He’s part of a long line of artists, from cave painters to Cy Twombly, who remind us that painting is a way of thinking, of feeling, of being in the world.