Ancient Novgorod (The Saviour Nereditsa) 1935

Nicholas Roerich made this tempera on canvas called 'Ancient Novgorod (The Saviour Nereditsa).' The muted palette and simple rendering of form have a dreamlike quality, don’t they? I imagine Roerich, out in the field, squinting at the pale light and mixing up a batch of tempera in eggshell hues. The paint seems quite thin, almost translucent, laid down in delicate layers to evoke a sense of depth. The rhythmic repetition of the church's rounded forms against the crisp, wintry landscape creates a feeling of contemplative stillness. I can almost see Roerich’s hand moving across the canvas, carefully outlining each shape. The brushstrokes are so deliberate, so controlled, yet there’s a softness, a sense of the ephemeral, in the way he captures the light. Roerich's paintings feel like prayers, don't they? In the spirit of devotional practice, artists are in ongoing conversation with those who came before and those who come after, inspiring one another’s creativity. Painting, in this sense, is a form of embodied expression which embraces ambiguity, allowing for multiple interpretations.