Giacometti à la coupole 1965

Theo Gerber made 'Giacometti à la coupole' with oils maybe sometime in the 60s. The canvas is awash in greys and whites, punctuated by these decisive dark marks that dance across the surface. I can imagine him, Gerber, standing before the easel, lost in thought, brush in hand, building up the image in layers. Those decisive marks, so economical, it’s like he's trying to capture the essence of a feeling, or a fleeting moment. Maybe he's thinking about Giacometti, his sculptural figures, so spare and haunted. The surface feels like a conversation, each stroke a response to the one before. There’s a definite energy there. The paint isn’t overworked; there’s a rawness to it, a kind of urgent vulnerability that speaks to me. I feel how painters like Gerber are in dialogue with the painters of the past, riffing on ideas, pushing boundaries, and discovering new ways to see and feel the world. This painting shows how they leave behind a trace of themselves, a mark of their existence, inviting us into their world of infinite possibilities.