Leslie 1986

Chuck Close made this portrait, Leslie, using a grid and what looks like watercolor or thin washes of acrylic. Each little square in the grid hosts a burst of color – it’s like a mosaic made of daubs. I find myself focusing on one small gesture: a tiny circle of burnt orange just above Leslie’s left eye. On its own, it's insignificant, but within the larger framework, it sings. The whole image vibrates with a kind of controlled chaos. I can see how he builds up the image, one cell at a time, and that feels very human. The colors aren't blended in the traditional sense; they’re juxtaposed, letting our eyes do the mixing. Close's work reminds me a bit of Gerhard Richter's blurry portraits, especially in the way they both play with perception and the mechanics of seeing. Both artists push the boundaries of representation, inviting us to question what a portrait can be and how we make sense of the world around us, one pixel, or brushstroke, at a time.