Texte decrepit 1959

Jean Dubuffet's 'Texte decrepit' is all scratchy marks and fields of dark and light. It feels like it was made with tools dragging and digging into the surface, maybe even the wrong kind of tools. I imagine Dubuffet, in his studio, wrestling with texture, trying to channel some raw, primal energy through his materials. It's like he's trying to unearth something, to strip away the polite veneer of civilization and reveal something more elemental. The dark marks feel like erasures, while the pale areas feel scarred. It reminds me of Cy Twombly's mark-making, but with a kind of grimy, urban edge. There’s this push and pull between control and chaos, between the artist's intention and the unruly nature of the materials. Dubuffet reminds us that art isn't about slick perfection, but about embracing the messy, unpredictable, and sometimes even ugly aspects of life. And isn't that what makes it so compelling?