Rostov Veliky. Yard in the Kremlin. 1903

Nicholas Roerich made "Rostov Veliky. Yard in the Kremlin." with a brush loaded with buttery pigment. I can see the colors were laid down methodically, almost like he was building a wall of paint, brick by brick. There’s a real sense of weight to the image; it feels solid and permanent, like those buildings will be there forever. I imagine Roerich standing there, squinting in the sun, trying to capture the essence of this place. He’s not just painting what he sees, but what he feels. The ochre and terracotta hues give a warmth to the scene, while the dark shadows hint at the secrets hidden within those walls. He’s using the materiality of paint, its thickness and texture, to convey the sense of time and history. It reminds me of other painters like Bomberg or Auerbach, whose landscapes are built up with a similar sense of material density. It’s like he's having a conversation with them across time. Painting, after all, is just one long, ongoing conversation, a dialogue across generations.