Judith 1950

Benton Spruance’s 'Judith' is an image rendered in washes and strokes of warm, earthy reds, like rust or dried clay. I imagine Spruance bent over the lithographic stone, coaxing this image into being through layered marks. The woman’s face is tilted upwards, eyes closed, lost in thought or memory. What was he thinking as he worked? Perhaps he felt a sense of solidarity with Judith, sharing her determination to create something powerful, something that would leave a mark. Look at that bold stroke that defines her neck and shoulder – it’s like a surge of feeling made visible. You can almost feel the weight of her garment. There’s a real physicality to it, a sense of the body present beneath the surface. It makes me think about Goya, someone else who knew how to use just the barest means to convey the deepest emotions. It’s a reminder that artists are always talking to each other across time, riffing on the same themes, trying to make sense of the world in their own way.