Red Lily Pads (Nénuphars rouges) 1956

Alexander Calder's "Red Lily Pads (Nénuphars rouges)" is hanging here at the Guggenheim, a whimsical, weightless poem in metal and paint. The flat red discs, suspended by delicate wires, have this incredible lightness about them. Calder's like a conductor orchestrating a ballet of shapes, embracing the physics of motion to conjure something new. I think of Calder as a sort of trickster; like he's set a trap for us to think about painting in a whole new way. It's so light, so airy, it makes you feel weightless. The red of the pads, a warm, inviting, almost blushing colour, contrasts so wonderfully with the stark white of the Guggenheim, popping out like a splash of summer in the middle of winter. You can see it as a constant interplay between accident and intention. Much like Joan Miró, it’s like he's teaching us to see the world with the fresh eyes of a child, full of wonder and possibility.