Curatorial notes
Peter Doig made Lapeyrouse Wall with paint, and maybe some memories. The paint is applied in layers, like a slow, unfolding thought. There's a softness to the whole thing, a dreamy quality, that makes you feel like you're looking at a half-remembered scene. The wall itself is a riot of texture, a collection of stains, patches and discolorations that form an abstract painting of their own. Look at how the dark browns and creamy whites push against each other, creating a sense of depth and decay. It’s like the wall is breathing, telling its own story through the accumulation of marks and stains. Even the way the sky is rendered, with those hazy blues and soft clouds, feels like a memory fading at the edges. It makes me think of how Gerhard Richter uses photography as a starting point for painting, blurring the line between representation and abstraction. Doig's work, like Richter's, embraces the ambiguity of seeing and remembering.