The Lunatic at Syracuse 1930

Istvan Farkas made this painting, The Lunatic at Syracuse, with what looks like oil on canvas, though I could be wrong. The colors are like sun-baked earth - ochres, browns, and whites - and it's all done with these simple, direct strokes. It makes me think about how we see the world, how even a few marks can conjure a whole scene. I'm drawn to how the paint is laid down, almost scrubbed in some places. There's a roughness to it, especially in the figure’s clothes, that makes it feel immediate, like you're right there with this person, whoever they are. And that outstretched arm, pointing towards… what? It's like the gesture itself is the whole story. Farkas reminds me a bit of Guston, in that both artists use a kind of bluntness to get at something deeper. It's not about perfection or polish; it's about the messy, complicated business of being human. And that, to me, is what makes art so endlessly fascinating.