The horizon in the summer evening 1995

Alfred Freddy Krupa made this small watercolour, The horizon in the summer evening, and signed it in '95. I love how the brushstrokes capture the fleeting light and atmosphere of a summer evening. You can almost feel the warmth radiating from the paper. The way the colours bleed and blend suggests a sense of movement, of a landscape in constant flux, that feeling of trying to grasp something as it slowly fades. I imagine Krupa standing outside, quickly trying to capture the essence of the scene before the sun dips below the horizon, racing against time. You can see the thinness of the paint and the delicate washes of blues and browns, layered to create depth and texture. The horizon line itself is soft and blurred as if the land is dissolving into the sky. It's a small painting, but it speaks volumes about the beauty of simplicity. Like Agnes Martin, Krupa distills the essence of landscape into its most essential forms. The horizon has become a source of solace, a reminder of the quiet moments in life that are often overlooked.