Modern Idol 1911

Umberto Boccioni made this oil painting, Modern Idol, with dabs and dashes of colour, like a mosaic of brushstrokes building up the image. I can imagine Boccioni, leaning in, squinting, trying to capture not just what he saw, but how it felt to see. The face, almost ghostly, stares out, framed by a halo of flowers and light. It's like he's trying to paint a feeling, not just a person. Those streaks of light, are they rain, or tears, or maybe the glare of the stage? It’s a heavy crown of bright colour, but is it celebratory or a burden? I wonder what it was like for Boccioni to build up that surface, layer by layer, each touch a little decision, a little risk. This work reminds me of some of Klimt's portraits, shimmering with detail, but Boccioni's got a rawer, edgier feel. It's like he's saying, "Let's not just look, let's really see." Artists have always taken cues from each other, riffing and building on what came before, and Boccioni is no exception. He's part of this ongoing, messy, beautiful conversation that we call art history.