California Poppy Field 

Editor: We’re now looking at “California Poppy Field,” an oil painting by Granville Redmond. There’s a kind of quiet energy to it. All those tiny brushstrokes seem to vibrate, don't they? What draws your eye when you look at it? Curator: Funny you say vibrate. It's that subtle movement that always gets me. See how the light kind of dances on the flowers? It almost feels like you're there, breathing in the warm, earthy air. For me, it's less about perfectly replicating the landscape and more about capturing the fleeting *feeling* of being immersed in it. Redmond, who was deaf, seemed to communicate emotions through these fields of colour and light. You feel it too? Editor: I definitely feel it. I read he spent most of his career painting California landscapes in *plein air.* But how did his being deaf influence his work? Curator: That’s the golden question, isn't it? We can only imagine… perhaps it heightened his other senses, amplified his visual awareness. Maybe silence allowed for a deeper, more intimate connection with the natural world, stripping away the auditory noise. His landscapes possess an incredible sense of serenity and inner peace – the gentle breeze, sunlight on leaves. The visual rhythms maybe replaced melodies others heard. See how those colors softly harmonize, instead of loudly clashing? He invites us into that quietude with him. Editor: It’s beautiful. I’ll never look at a landscape painting the same way. Thank you for this. Curator: My pleasure! Remember, every painting is a silent symphony, waiting to be heard with our eyes.