Roadside trees 1928

Editor: Here we have Tadeusz Makowski's "Roadside Trees," painted in 1928. The impasto really grabs me. It feels almost dreamlike, a memory of a landscape rather than a precise rendering. What do you make of it? Curator: Dreamlike is a good word. I see a stage set, almost, where the trees aren't just trees but characters framing the little drama of everyday life unfolding on that sun-drenched path. There's something charmingly naive in the way Makowski renders perspective, as if seen through a child's eyes. What does that naiveté evoke in you? Editor: A sort of innocent stillness. I find it quite peaceful. But it's interesting you mention the stage set - there *is* something theatrical about it. Curator: Exactly. And the way he uses light! That almost blinding sunlight feels less about accurate representation and more about a kind of emotional illumination, a yearning perhaps. Imagine him standing there, brushstrokes thick with feeling... almost feverish. Don't you feel a yearning too? Editor: Definitely a sense of something beyond the literal landscape. Almost like the road is leading somewhere significant. Curator: Somewhere significant, perhaps. Or maybe just…somewhere. The journey matters more than the destination, you think? Makowski seems to suggest there’s magic to be found in the mundane. Editor: I've never really considered how landscape can capture more than scenery! That perspective makes a world of difference. Curator: Absolutely! Next time you see a tree, don't just *see* it - listen to its story!