Triste Os from Cirque de l'Etoile Filante 1934

Here's a tragic clown, made by Georges Rouault with thick black lines surrounding pools of colour. Look at those heavy outlines, holding everything in place, and that acidic, mossy green - it’s kind of lurid, isn't it? I feel for Rouault, trapped in his studio with this guy. Was he trying to capture the lonely feeling of being a performer, or was he thinking about something else entirely? Maybe he was just playing with the push-and-pull of those dark lines and dissonant colours. He probably wasn't sure what it would be when he started. It reminds me of Beckmann’s strange figures, looming out of the darkness. The texture here feels like the work of someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty. I wonder if Rouault knew he was part of a much larger conversation, one that stretches back centuries and continues to this day. After all, we’re all just trying to figure things out, one brushstroke at a time.