Untitled 1961

Luis Feito made this untitled painting using oil and a whole lotta red. I love how the top part is all this open, flat space, like a clear sky, but it’s the color of blood or something. Then, at the bottom, Feito piles on the black paint, thick and clumpy, like tar, or maybe volcanic rock. Look closely at that mass of black; you can almost see how he laid it down, one stroke at a time. It's built, not just painted. It’s almost like he’s wrestling with the material, letting it do its thing but still pushing it around. I see a little wink in that dark form at the bottom, like a Goya monster, looming out of the darkness. The whole thing feels kinda tragic, but also totally alive. Like a Franz Kline, but with feeling.