Jockey 1948

Curator: Ah, "Jockey," a striking abstract expressionist painting from 1948 by Huguette Arthur Bertrand, rendered in oil paint. What do you make of its initial impact? Editor: Chaotic! It's a beautiful chaos, though. My eye doesn’t quite know where to land. The lines are so angular, sharp almost. They evoke speed and nervous energy. Curator: The dynamism is undeniable, wouldn't you agree? The black lines dissect the softer blocks of color—a calculated tension, perhaps representative of the race itself. Editor: It’s all these broken forms suggesting something whole. Like shards of memory. What is interesting to me is that idea of jockey in the image and the multiple visual metaphors for it that can be drawn—the arches looking like riding hats for example, or the triangular shape that repeats resembling horse's ears… Or maybe I am projecting! Curator: No, I think you're on to something. Given the context of its creation, shortly after the war, one might perceive a symbolic struggle in these juxtaposed forms. There's a sense of reconstruction, rebuilding a world. Editor: I hadn't considered that. It certainly alters the emotional weight. Suddenly, the geometric shapes suggest not just speed, but the fragmentation of the past and the urgent need to create something new. It isn't only visual clues that are speaking of speed, it is also the artist's brushstrokes—the fast, frenzied execution itself. Curator: Precisely. And these muted earth tones...a reminder of the raw materials needed to construct something solid. I appreciate Bertrand's willingness to delve into abstract forms while subtly hinting at recognizable subjects. It is like she leaves a few anchors so the viewer does not get totally lost in the picture's world. Editor: It's an invitation, I think, for us to project our own interpretations onto the canvas, to find the "jockey" within the chaos. After our chat, I am feeling this painting much more deeply! Curator: Yes, and that tension—between recognizable subject and abstracted form—provides a fascinating space for contemplation, doesn’t it? A good picture can act as mirror of our own states, wouldn’t you agree?