Branches 1955

John Ferren made *Branches* with paint, and what a gorgeous mess he made! The whole thing feels like it has come into being organically, shifting and emerging through trial, error, and intuition. I can imagine Ferren in his studio, maybe late at night, thinking about the branch-like forms, the tension between the linear structure and the blobby shapes that want to burst out. Look how the paint is neither thick nor thin. It's smooth in some places, but I can also see where the brush has dragged, creating these subtle textures. And that pale blue orb—what's that doing there? What does it mean? Does it matter? Ferren's work always felt like a conversation with the avant-garde movements of his time, but he also had a knack for making it his own. He was in dialogue with artists who were exploring the subconscious, like the Surrealists, or the pure abstraction of someone like Kandinsky. Painting is this ongoing exchange of ideas, across time, inspiring each other's creativity. So what does this painting spark in you?