The Bridge in Labastide du Vert 1905

Henri Martin's ‘The Bridge in Labastide du Vert’ is a little puzzle of colour, probably made with oils, where the paint's dabbed on like soft mosaic pieces. I can imagine Martin standing there, squinting at the light, trying to capture how the bridge hugs the river. There's this gentle dance between what's solid and what’s reflection, you know? The bridge itself is built from warm, earthy tones, but then the reflection blurs everything, all hazy greens and blues. It almost dissolves the stone. He’s a master of the small brushstroke, each one a tiny decision adding up to this shimmering surface. The colors aren’t just sitting there; they're vibrating, alive. Martin was doing his thing in France, same time as other painters, all trying to nail down how light changes everything. Looking at this, I think about the way artists keep answering each other across time, like one big, messy conversation. And it’s never really finished, is it? Because it's our turn next.