Pyotr Konchalovsky made this painting, *Cock in a Basket*, with oils, but who knows when. There is something charmingly slapdash about this painting. Look at the way the basket is rendered, how each stroke of white and brown builds up the form, yet it’s also left open, gestural. I think of it like jazz: you learn the rules, then break them! The paint is applied thickly in some areas, like the chickens head, and more thinly in others, allowing the brown undertones to peek through. The textures and tones shape our understanding, it makes you want to reach out and touch it. There’s something here of the Fauves, like Vlaminck, an artist who let rip with colour and form, embracing a similarly visceral and immediate approach to art making. It's art as conversation across time and space.