Untitled (Ocean) 1972

Vija Celmins made this ocean view with graphite on acrylic ground, a dance of greys and whites in constant motion, like the waves themselves. I can just imagine her at work: the soft hum of concentration, the delicate touch, the eraser, the do-over. For Celmins, it’s all about the surface, creating a sea of marks that never quite settle. The ocean extends horizontally, a quiet study in repetition, and the subtle variations in tone keep your eye moving. Each tiny ripple of graphite captures a fleeting moment, and the whole thing makes me think about the relationship between seeing, thinking, and making. You know, painting is a kind of conversation across time, a way to connect with other artists who have wrestled with similar ideas. Celmins' patient mark-making echoes the obsessive practice of Agnes Martin, or the quiet intensity of Giorgio Morandi. It all comes back to this: the potential for a painting to open up a space for reflection and discovery.