SOUTHERN CROSS 1963

Alexander Calder’s ‘Southern Cross’ is a dance with the wind, made of painted metal, a suspended ballet in space. I can almost imagine Calder in his studio, pieces of metal scattered around, him bending and welding, a cosmic tinkerer bringing order to chaos. Those black shapes, like leaves or dark birds in flight, hover and sway, catching the air, while the orange base feels like a grounded counterpoint, stabilizing the ethereal movement above. It reminds me of Miró, but three-dimensional, playful, and optimistic. The touch of the hand is so apparent—the balancing, the weighting, the careful arrangement of forms to achieve a sense of equilibrium. I bet it took Calder a lot of time to get it just right. Artists are always in conversation, looking at each other's work, riffing on ideas, and pushing boundaries. Calder took the language of painting and sculpture, and flung it into the air, inviting us to look up, to dream, and to find beauty in the unexpected.