Toronto 1988

Gerhard Richter made 'Toronto' with paint, and something else, maybe a photograph. The city, almost sepia-toned, is fighting for space with these colorful splodges and streaks. They look like joyful, disruptive, and perhaps a bit dangerous abstract creatures. The paint isn't trying to hide. It's thick, drippy, and demands attention. You can almost feel the physical act of Richter applying it, maybe even flinging it! The blue squiggles on the left are like phantom limbs, obscuring a building. It’s like the artist is playing with layers of reality and memory. It puts the city in the distance, a backdrop for the immediate, messy present of paint. Richter’s work is a constant push and pull. He’s always questioning what a painting can be, and this piece, with its playful defiance, is no exception. You might want to check out some Francis Picabia and see how his work uses photographs as a base for artmaking. He embraced contradiction, and so does Richter. Art doesn't have to make sense to be powerful.