Reclining Nude 1909

Julius Leblanc Stewart made this painting, Reclining Nude, with sweeping brushstrokes and a limited palette of creamy whites, grays, and charcoal blacks. I can almost see him, stepping back, squinting, dabbing at the canvas, trying to capture the way light glances off the model’s skin. I wonder what it was like to be Stewart, figuring out how to show the soft curve of a hip or the way fabric bunches and folds. I love how the lines around the edges aren't fussy, they give a sense of immediacy. There are these dark, drippy marks almost like charcoal, and these marks create a visual rhythm—a kind of beat. It’s like he was thinking through the paint, letting each stroke be a question and an answer at the same time. Painters are always in conversation with each other, across time and space. Every brushstroke is a form of embodied expression, inviting us to see and feel the world in new ways.