Wicked Ways 

Curator: This is "Wicked Ways," a painting by Logan Maxwell Hagege. Notice how he employs acrylics to capture a striking scene. What's your initial impression? Editor: Well, my first thought is drama! The bucking bronco against that enormous, almost luminous cloud…it’s pure theatre. Gives me the same giddy anxiety as being front row at a rodeo, only it's... quiet. Is it just me, or is there something serene in that tension? Curator: Serene is a curious choice. I see the tension in the diagonals, the force driving both horse and rider downwards juxtaposed against that looming, amorphous cloud. Consider the geometry at play; the acute angles of the horse's legs repeat and invert the curvature of the cloud, creating visual echoes. Editor: Geometry, sure, but the cloud to me feels almost protective, like some benevolent giant is watching over them. Or maybe I'm just projecting my city-slicker naivete. I have absolutely zero experience on a horse. The rider, by contrast, is contained within that cloud, hemmed in almost. Trapped in a moment, but definitely showing off a little, even though he's probably scared to death. Curator: "Trapped" implies a static condition, which I disagree with. The interplay of light and shadow lends the entire composition a distinct sense of movement. The palette itself—earth tones contrasted against cerulean—propels the eye and mirrors the struggle. It all seems perfectly calculated. Hagege has managed to arrest a fraction of time, in what looks like less a depiction than an ideogram, full of movement, and somehow, depth. Editor: An ideogram of… survival, maybe? Or pure, unadulterated wildness. It makes me think of my grandpa. He talked about rodeos, dusty and untamed, like it was his first love. Maybe this piece captures that very first glimpse of the arena’s mad energy… framed by something bigger than yourself. What is it about Western Art that just feels intrinsically larger than life? Curator: An interesting perspective. It pushes us to analyze further that curious amalgam that is Hagege, balancing realism with almost Surrealism in a surprisingly elegant solution to a historical painterly dilemma. Editor: Agreed, the piece is way more complex than it appears at first glance! I'd walk right by this one initially, so I'm grateful we paused here today. I guess, now, that I understand more clearly what the canvas means to the world.