The Japanese Bridge at Giverny 1926

Claude Monet made this painting of the Japanese Bridge at Giverny, probably in oil on canvas, with all its thick, juicy marks and a daring palette of reds, oranges, and greens. Just imagine him out there, squinting at the light, trying to pin down how it feels to be in that garden. I can almost feel the dabs and strokes, the way he's pushing paint around, wiping it off, maybe even throwing some on there. It's this constant back-and-forth, a dance between intention and accident. Look at the way the paint sort of vibrates, thick in some places and thin in others. That kind of surface, that kind of texture, doesn't just happen. And those reds! They’re so intense, almost volcanic, but then softened by those touches of green that give it all some depth, some air. It's like he's trying to capture not just what he sees, but how it makes him feel to be there. You know, painting is this weird, embodied thing; you are thinking, and seeing, but the feeling goes right through your arm and into the brush, and then bam, onto the canvas! Monet's not just painting a bridge, he's painting an experience.