Beach Scene, Baie-Saint-Paul 1909

Clarence Gagnon made this little beach scene, probably on a small board, with oil paint, sometime in his career. I see these dreamy yellows and blues, and, thinking about the act of painting itself, I imagine Gagnon squinting, trying to capture the hazy light. The paint is thin, brushed on in loose strokes. I can almost feel the breeze and taste the salt in the air. I like to think about what the artist was thinking when he made it. Was he happy? Sad? Probably just trying to figure out how to get that darn light right. That little brushstroke that defines the horizon line—it’s so simple, yet it holds the whole composition together. Gagnon, like all artists, was in conversation with other painters, learning from them, pushing back against them, trying to find his own way. Painting is like that, an ongoing dialogue across time. It is a form of expression that embraces ambiguity, allowing for multiple interpretations, so that we can all find something new each time we look.