Gadular 1926

Ivan Milev made Gadular, and right away I get a real sense of the making, the trying. I can imagine him, maybe late at night, pushing the paint around, trying to get those figures just right. The colors—ochre, reds, and blues—feel earthy, like they've been dug straight from the ground, laid on the canvas, and built up into these characters who seem suspended between worlds. Look at the musician’s hand: he’s in the middle of a song. There's a boldness to the way Milev uses blocks of color to define form, which almost flattens the figures while also giving them this solid, sculptural presence. I think of other artists who were trying to capture something essential about their culture, and this feels connected to that. It reminds me of folk art, too, with its unpretentious storytelling. Artists are always borrowing from each other, having this conversation across time, each of us trying to figure out what it means to make something real. Painting is like that, it’s a way of feeling and knowing.