Untitled 1932

In this untitled painting, Le Corbusier’s brushstrokes build up fleshy forms and starkly linear structures in a palette of pastel pinks, reds, blues and greens. The painting feels like an act of searching, of trying to capture the unruly nature of life. I can imagine him, stepping back, squinting, then lunging forward to lay down another stroke of pigment. Is that a corset? Or a torso? Or some kind of machine? Who knows! Look at the way that dark blue shape asserts itself, demanding attention, while the surrounding forms seem to dance around it. I wonder if he was thinking of Picasso, or maybe Léger? You know, all us painters, we’re just talking to each other across time. It's an ongoing conversation, an exchange of ideas and energy that keeps evolving. And that’s what makes painting so alive, so endlessly fascinating.