Pants 1919

Here we see a painting by Norman Rockwell, its precise date unknown, seemingly made with delicate brushwork in oil or watercolor. There is a thinness to the paint, a transparency that’s not trying to hide its own process; you can almost see the underdrawing, the scaffolding beneath the image. Look at the dynamic composition; the boy is mid-leap, his face a mask of pain. The colors are muted, almost nostalgic. Rockwell lets the imperfections of the hand stay visible, which can be seen in the boy's expression. There’s a kind of truth to the process that makes it feel more alive. Rockwell reminds me of someone like Philip Guston, who also trafficked in a cartoonish vernacular but with a darker, more subversive edge. But even here, in this seemingly straightforward image, there’s an ambiguity, a discomfort that makes it more than just an illustration. It’s a painting that invites us to look closer, to question what we think we know about storytelling and representation.