A l'ombre d'une montagne transparente 1958

Andre Lanskoy made this painting, A l'ombre d'une montagne transparente, with oil paint and probably a brush, the date of which is unknown. The blues and whites are laid down in these chunky strokes, and it's easy to imagine Lanskoy at work, pushing the paint around, trying to build this space. When I look at this, I see a complex layering of color and texture, a surface that feels both chaotic and carefully considered. See how the paint is so thick in places, you can almost feel the weight of it? I love the way he's used these little flicks of orange that just pop out from the surface. It's like he's adding these tiny, unexpected jolts of energy. It feels like a metaphor for how we experience the world, how moments of clarity and intensity can emerge from the fog. Lanskoy reminds me a little bit of someone like Joan Mitchell, who was also working through abstraction in a really visceral, embodied way. But Lanskoy has his own distinct voice, his own way of building these shimmering, dreamlike worlds out of paint.