Taiki No. 227 1961

Manabu Mabe made "Taiki No. 227" with a kind of controlled abandon, where shades of warm earth tones and fleeting marks suggest a world in flux. Up close, the materiality reveals so much: the canvas breathes with thin washes, punctuated by moments where the pigment pools into thicker, almost sculptural forms. Look at the way the ochre and burnt sienna blend, creating these luminous passages. You can almost feel Mabe coaxing the paint across the surface. There’s a specific gesture near the center, a sort of energetic swirl that seems to gather all the other elements, giving the piece a heart, a focal point. Mabe reminds me a little of Helen Frankenthaler, in the way he lets the paint stain and soak into the canvas, but with a distinctly personal touch. It’s like he’s capturing not just a scene but a feeling, a fleeting moment of beauty. Ultimately, it’s about embracing the unknown, reveling in the journey, and trusting that something meaningful will emerge.