Bucko O'Malley (Charles) 1924

Robert Henri has captured Bucko O'Malley with these wonderfully broad strokes, and a palette that’s both muted and intense. I can almost see Henri wrestling with the paint, pushing and pulling it across the canvas to find Bucko's likeness. Look at the shadow on the wall behind Bucko—it's not just dark, but a deep, pulsating purple. It's as if Henri is saying, "Hey, shadows have color too, and they have a life of their own!" Then you look at the boy's face, those dabs of red on his cheeks and the bright blues of his eyes. Henri wasn't trying to copy what he saw, he was trying to feel what he saw. I imagine him stepping back, squinting, maybe muttering to himself, layering one stroke over another until Bucko emerged. It makes you realize how much painting is about conversation, not just with the subject but with all the painters who came before, like Manet and Velazquez, and all those yet to come. It's one big, messy, beautiful dialogue, and we're all invited to join.