Shrine c. 1938

Emile Cero made this Shrine, in what looks like watercolor and pencil. It depicts a real object, a painted wooden shrine. I can imagine Cero carefully building this image, starting with the basic structure, then adding those ornamental details, like the little doves on top and the delicate gold flourishes around the central space. You see, when a painter reproduces a real-world scene, they aren’t just copying what’s in front of them. They're translating it, interpreting it, and creating something new in the process. It makes me wonder, what did this shrine mean to Cero? Was it a symbol of faith, a piece of folk art he admired, or just an interesting object to paint? I think about those blue corner posts in particular: the way they're rendered gives them a kind of solidity and weight that anchors the whole image. The way the blue and white contrast gives the shrine definition, a sense of depth, making it almost leap off the page. Painters are in constant conversation with each other, across time, inspiring each other to see and think differently. I always feel like the best painting embraces that ambiguity, allowing for endless interpretations.