Central Park 1906

Childe Hassam took his brushes to Central Park, and what he found there was light, filtered and dappled. I can see him there, squinting, trying to capture the way sunlight hits the leaves, making everything shimmer. He must have stood for hours mixing greens and browns, trying to get it just right. And look how he's built up the surface of the canvas, layering strokes of paint to create texture and depth. That little girl in the foreground, she’s like a burst of white against all that green. I bet Hassam watched her playing, trying to catch the fleeting moment of childhood joy. You can feel the influence of his peers, Monet and Renoir, but he brings his own sensibility to it, a kind of American directness. It makes me think about what it means to be a painter, to be constantly looking and learning, and to be part of this amazing conversation that spans centuries.