Älvan 1917

Anders Zorn’s figure painting has a real air of the studio about it, like it’s come to life through trial, error, and intuition. I can just picture Zorn, palette in hand, squinting at his model, trying to capture the exact warmth of her skin, the way the light catches her cheekbones, the slight turn of her head. I like the way the paint is kind of scrubbed on in places, giving it this broken, uneven texture. It makes it feel alive, you know? There's a gesture in the painting that strikes me—the way she’s leaning against the wall. It communicates a sense of ease but also a kind of vulnerability. Thinking about the history of painting nudes, it’s hard not to see how artists are always talking to each other, across time. Zorn is in conversation with artists like Titian, Rembrandt, and Manet, who have all wrestled with the same challenge of capturing the human form with paint. Painting is an expression that embraces ambiguity, allowing for multiple interpretations and meaning over fixed readings.