Bodies in a grave, Belsen 1946

This painting was made in 1946 by Alex Colville, its earth tones layered, almost blurring the lines between bodies and ground. Looking at this, I think about the weight of depicting something so horrific, so unspeakable. I imagine Colville layering thin washes of paint, building up the image slowly, cautiously, each brushstroke a meditation on mortality. What does it mean to make a painting like this, I wonder? To stare into the abyss and then try to capture it on canvas. The figures are rendered with a kind of detached tenderness, their bodies skeletal but still possessing a strange, haunting beauty. The paint seems to cling to the canvas, like a memory refusing to fade. The way Colville shows us this scene is in conversation with so many other artists who've tried to grapple with human suffering, from Goya to Picasso. Painting becomes a way to bear witness, to mourn, and to keep the conversation going, across time and space.