The Little Peasant 1918

Amedeo Modigliani painted "The Little Peasant" here in London at the Tate Modern with oil on canvas. I love the slightly wonky lines, the way nothing is quite symmetrical, and the palette of muted greens and reds. It feels honest, like Modigliani wasn't trying to be perfect, just present. The paint is so interesting; in some places, it's thin and transparent, like in the background, almost like a watercolor wash. But then you look at the boy's face and hands, and the pigment is built up, creating a subtle texture. I especially love the way he's rendered the hands. There is a kind of roughness, but there's also a tenderness, especially when you notice the way the fingers are interlocking. There's something about this that reminds me of Chaim Soutine, another artist who wasn't afraid to let the paint get messy and emotional. Art is like a conversation, ideas bouncing back and forth across time. There’s a beauty in leaving things open, allowing for multiple readings and emotional connections.