Landscape 1983

Horia Bernea painted this landscape with oil on canvas; you can see the gentle strokes of green and grey that define the trees and sky. I can imagine Bernea standing in front of this scene, squinting, brush in hand, trying to capture the fleeting light. The paint is applied thinly, allowing the texture of the canvas to peek through, giving the whole thing a kind of hazy, dreamlike feel. There’s a softness to the edges, a blurring of forms that makes the landscape feel both familiar and distant. Look at how he’s rendered the leaves. Each dab of paint is a tiny gesture, a record of his attention to the world. It makes me think about other painters, like Corot or the Impressionists, who were also trying to capture the fleeting beauty of nature. We're all in a constant exchange of ideas, cross-pollinating each other's creativity. Ultimately, painting is just about seeing, thinking, and experiencing the world in a very particular way. Each gesture, each mark, is a form of embodied expression, embracing ambiguity and allowing for multiple interpretations.