Paris 1907

Kmetty János paints us a scene in Paris with watery strokes of blues, greens, and browns that bleed and blend, as if the city itself is dissolving into memory. I wonder what it was like for János to stand there, brush in hand, capturing this park scene. Was he trying to catch the light as it shifted through the leaves, or was he more interested in the quiet drama of the two figures, one reclining, the other pacing? The paint is thin, almost translucent, which gives everything a dreamlike quality. That rhythmic banding in the foreground guides my eye through the scene. It makes me feel the rhythm of daily life in Paris. The way he’s balanced the composition reminds me of early modernist landscape painting. It's like he’s in conversation with Cezanne, or the Fauves. Ultimately, painting is about taking a moment and turning it into something that can be shared, mulled over, and re-experienced across time. Each brushstroke is a record of that exchange.