Sinking of the Titanic 1912

This painting, Sinking of the Titanic, by Max Beckmann, feels like it was wrestled onto the canvas. Look at those strokes, like gashes of ochre, white, and a sickly green. You can almost feel Beckmann’s hand, the pressure, the urgency. I imagine him, in his studio, grappling with the unspeakable, transforming tragedy into… well, this raw, churning vision. The paint is thick, almost sculptural, mirroring the chaos of the scene. The figures aren’t pretty or sentimental. They’re just bodies, overwhelmed, caught in the act of trying to survive. There’s something about the way he renders the water – those frantic, swirling brushstrokes – that reminds me of other painters like Delacroix, but Beckmann brings his own 20th-century anxiety to it. He understood that painting isn't just about representation, it’s about feeling, about trying to make sense of the world, one brushstroke at a time. And that’s a conversation that continues to inspire artists today.