The Promenade 1913

Maurice Prendergast made this painting, The Promenade, with oil on canvas. It’s a party of tiny mosaic-like strokes of pure colour, each one a micro-decision, the kind you make when you're building something up bit by bit. I’m drawn to the seated figure in the foreground, the one bathed in a rosy glow. Her pose feels both casual and considered, like a dancer caught mid-pose, each dab of paint alive with potential movement. You can almost feel the sun on her skin. What strikes me most is how Prendergast handles the paint; it’s thick, almost sculptural, yet somehow retains a sense of lightness. It’s like he’s built this scene out of coloured crumbs, each one contributing to a joyful, shimmering whole. It reminds me a little of Bonnard, especially his later landscapes where form dissolves into a haze of colour, each painting a world of its own. I guess that’s what all good paintings are, right? A world.