Lilacs 1915

This painting of lilacs, by Konstantin Korovin, feels like a fleeting impression caught in a flurry of brushstrokes. It’s like he swiped at the canvas, not to depict the flowers precisely, but to evoke the very essence of their bloom. I can almost feel the artist standing before his subject, mixing colors, squinting and considering, capturing light and shadow. I imagine he was thinking a lot about texture, surface, and the physicality of the medium. The paint isn't too thick here, but it's definitely present. It’s like he’s saying, "Look, I’m not trying to trick you into thinking this is real, but I want to capture the feeling of lilacs." That’s a generous gesture. The composition feels familiar somehow, nodding to Impressionists like Monet, but with a distinctly Russian sensibility. Ultimately, artists are always looking and learning and building on the art of those who came before. Korovin invites us to see and feel these flowers, as a space of uncertainty, allowing for endless readings of them.