Komposition 1940

Otto Freundlich's 'Komposition' seems to be made of color and guts. I can see him shifting each geometric puzzle piece. Was it trial and error, or did he have it all mapped out? I like to imagine the artist standing there, maybe squinting, maybe stepping back, trying to create order out of the chaotic nature of colour. I'm getting a kind of homesick feeling from it, a longing for belonging. It’s got that warm palette that feels both inviting and kind of unsettling. I'm always curious about the artist's touch, like how the surface feels. Is the paint thick, thin, or somewhere in between? Are there any accidents? These are the things that tell me a lot about the artist themselves. I think of artists as being in an ongoing conversation, and each painting becomes a letter in that dialogue. Each generation builds on the last, sharing and expanding our understanding of what paint can do and be. It’s a forever thing, like a big, messy, beautiful, and unpredictable conversation.