Columbine 1950

Max Beckmann's painting, Columbine, presents a figure shrouded in mystery through layers of bold, expressive brushstrokes. The palette is a clash of muted earth tones against pops of vibrant pink and green, a combination that feels both unsettling and captivating. Looking closely, the paint application is thick, almost sculptural, particularly around the figure's face and hands. It's like Beckmann is building up the form, wrestling with it, and allowing the process to remain visible. See that pink hat she's holding? It's rendered with such raw energy; the paint looks slapped on, yet it conveys a sense of delicate vulnerability. Beckmann's work reminds me of Ensor's masked figures, that same eerie theatricality and critique of society. Art, like life, is a constant masquerade, and Beckmann invites us to question what lies beneath the surface. The beauty of this piece lies in its ambiguity, leaving space for our own interpretations and emotional responses.