Algoma 

Editor: J.E.H. MacDonald's "Algoma," is a landscape oil painting that plunges us right into the heart of a vivid forest. I'm immediately struck by its density. The impasto makes you want to run your fingers across it. What grabs your attention? Curator: You know, when I look at "Algoma," I don’t just see trees. I feel the sheer exuberance MacDonald must have felt standing in the Canadian wilderness. It’s as if he was wrestling with nature on the canvas, battling to capture its soul. See how he's piled the paint on? Each daub is like a shout, full of feeling, almost untamed! Do you get a sense of that primal energy? Editor: Definitely. It’s not serene; it's dynamic. So, what does that impasto technique add? Is it just about texture? Curator: It’s far more than just texture! That thick paint—it’s about breathing life into the canvas, capturing the very essence of the Canadian Shield, its ruggedness and untamed spirit. I've always found impasto the art equivalent of rugged honesty; there’s no hiding when you are piling on the paint. It mirrors nature’s chaotic beauty, don’t you think? Editor: It does! I hadn't thought about it that way, it does connect to that unkemptness. Now I see the energy and exuberance in his approach, not just a scene, thanks! Curator: And there lies the beauty, doesn’t it? Each time we look, the painting shifts a little, reveals another whisper of the wild. Wonderful!