I. 2.2.08 2008

This photograph of a forest, 'I. 2.2.08', was made by Gerhard Richter, probably in his studio in Cologne. You see Richter laid down a slick of black paint over the image obscuring its details. It makes me wonder what it might have been like to be Richter, feeling impelled to obliterate parts of the photograph and leave other areas exposed. Look at the way the black paint sits on the surface, thick and opaque, creating a sense of depth and tension. I can imagine him in the studio, testing and retesting. Did he consider wiping the paint away with a cloth? Or adding another layer? Maybe Richter wanted to question the very nature of photography. Or perhaps he was thinking about how we see and remember, and how time and memory can smudge the clarity of our experiences. Richter’s work reminds us that art-making is like a conversation, where artists build upon what came before, and question assumptions about the world.