Untitled 1972

Editor: We’re looking at Andre Lanskoy’s "Untitled" oil painting from 1972. The colors are so vibrant, almost playful, but the thick impasto gives it a weightiness, a real presence. What do you see in this piece, considering its abstract expressionist style? Curator: The lack of definitive forms allows a flood of symbols to emerge, things lurking just below the surface. Think about the era, the residue of postwar anxieties seeking release, but filtered through the lens of pure abstraction. Do you notice how certain shapes keep recurring? Vertical thrusts, rounded forms… Editor: Now that you mention it, the rounded forms almost feel maternal, juxtaposed with those sharper, more assertive lines. Curator: Precisely. It could suggest a dialogue, a tension between opposing forces. Consider pink itself—a color associated with innocence, but here, it's almost aggressive, bordering on shocking pink. Doesn’t it conjure certain emotional responses, perhaps memories linked to a specific time? Editor: Yes, it feels like a distorted memory, familiar yet foreign at the same time. And that green border—it’s not quite framing the painting, but more like containing the energy within. Curator: Indeed. The frame can act as a container or boundary. Perhaps Lanskoy is implying that pure, unleashed emotion is somewhat contained, filtered through experience and memory before it bursts onto the canvas. Do you see other colors repeating? Editor: Definitely the blues and purples. They feel… contemplative, maybe? Curator: And how might that change our reading of the pink? Color alone speaks volumes. Ultimately, we’re seeing the world through Lanskoy's subjective lens. What story do these symbols tell *you*? Editor: This painting is far more complex than I initially thought. The use of color, texture and implied shapes feels like a language I'm just starting to decipher. Curator: That’s the beauty of abstraction; the dialogue never truly ends, because personal response is so crucial to it.