The Piano 1985

Alexander Bogen's "The Piano" is a symphony of geometric forms in black, red and ivory, dancing on a square canvas. Can't you just imagine Bogen, brush in hand, building up the layers, scraping back, maybe even attacking the surface? I bet he was thinking about Mondrian. The thick blacks feel weighty, anchoring the composition, while that slash of red, raw and urgent, provides such a compelling counterpoint. I imagine Bogen stepping back, squinting, feeling his way through the painting, one block at a time. It reminds me of trying to find the right note, the right chord on a piano—a process of addition, subtraction, and pure, unadulterated feeling. And that ivory ground! It's not just a background, it's a space, a silence that amplifies every other mark. Bogen isn't just making a painting, he's building an atmosphere, and inviting us into it. It’s like he's saying, "Hey, let's have a conversation," across time and space.