New England 1910

Maurice Prendergast made this painting, "New England," with oil on canvas. The marks are like mosaic tiles, almost square, a real patchwork of color. It’s like he’s asking, what makes an image? What makes a place? Look closely and you see how each dab of paint is laid down with real intention. There's something really physical about it, a real sense of touch. The paint isn’t overly thick, but it’s not trying to hide itself either. He’s not blending to make an illusion; he’s making a painting. See how the blues and whites in the sky are really distinct? It gives the sense of shifting light, like a fleeting moment captured just so. The figures in the foreground are less defined, almost like ghosts, or like they are just there as a note or rhythm. It makes me think of Bonnard, who was so good at capturing the fleeting feelings of life with these small brushstrokes. But Prendergast has his own thing, more decorative, more about the surface. Ultimately, it’s a reminder that painting is always about seeing, feeling, and making. It’s a process, not a perfect picture.