The Way Home 1930

Francisc Sirato made *The Way Home* with what looks like pastel, and the surface is super matte, almost chalky. It’s like he’s feeling his way through the scene, each stroke a little discovery. The thing I keep coming back to is the figure, how their form is suggested more than defined, especially the glowing yellow bag. It feels like a burst of light, right? The way Sirato layers the colors – the blacks and yellows, the reds and oranges – it’s all so physical. You can almost feel the pressure of his hand, the movement across the paper. There’s something about that blurry figure that reminds me of Gerhard Richter’s photo paintings. It makes you think about how we perceive the world, how memory works. Like a fleeting moment, not quite graspable, always slipping away.