Cage aux lions 1967

Gilles Aillaud made this painting of lions in a cage with a muted palette, favoring blues, greens, and ochres. The brushwork is unobtrusive, almost anonymous, lending a documentary feel to the scene. What strikes me is the tension between the flatness of the picture plane and the illusion of depth. The bars are so upfront, so present, they threaten to flatten everything behind them. But then you notice the subtle variations in the blue, the way Aillaud layers and scumbles the paint to create a sense of atmosphere, and you're drawn back into the space of the cage. Look at the way the lions are painted. Not like majestic creatures, but as somewhat sad, listless beings. The paint is thin, almost translucent, as if the animals are fading into the background. This piece reminds me of Gerhard Richter's paintings based on photographs – that same detached, almost clinical approach. But with Aillaud, there's a tenderness, a melancholy that's all his own.