Girlfriends 1988

Zoe Lerman made 'Girlfriends' with oil on canvas and a limited palette in 1988. I can imagine her making it: she's mixing up muted creams, yellows and browns, then applying them loosely to the canvas. The figures emerge from the ground, two pale forms almost like ghosts in high heels, leaning back into a space of theatrical props and pillars. I love to think about how she captured the essence of movement and companionship with such simple means. Perhaps Lerman was thinking about dance, the way bodies relate to one another. Or maybe she was trying to catch a fleeting moment of shared joy, a glimpse into the complex dynamics of female friendship. The figures aren’t really there, they are sketched and gestured towards, just like Edgar Degas used to do. The painting's incomplete and ambiguous nature is what makes it so alluring, suggesting a world of possibilities beyond its surface. Every brushstroke feels like a question, an invitation to engage with the painting on our own terms. Ultimately it becomes a testament to the enduring power of painting to spark curiosity, and to invite conversation.