Storm Brewing 1939

Lyonel Feininger made this oil on canvas painting called, *Storm Brewing*. Looking at this painting, I can imagine the artist, brush in hand, conjuring a sky that feels both imminent and otherworldly, where warm yellows clash with brooding blacks. The forms, like geometric puzzles, barely suggest a landscape or cityscape; more like a feeling of one. I wonder what Feininger was thinking as he applied those strokes. Maybe he felt a kinship with the Cubists, breaking down reality into facets of color and light. See how the sky seems to press down, heavy with anticipation, while those vertical lines—are they masts? Buildings?—reach up like nervous fingers. There’s something deliciously unresolved about the composition. Painting allows for such ambiguity, such open-ended conversations. It’s like artists are constantly riffing off each other, across time and space, remixing ideas, pushing boundaries. I know that when I paint, I feel like I’m part of this big, messy, beautiful dialogue.