Kasaner 1968

Kenzo Okada made "Kasaner" with paint, whenever that was. Look at how he built up these pastel colors, like pale sky meeting the sea. I can almost feel him, layering on the paint, maybe scraping it back, searching for that balance between control and letting go. I’m picturing Okada in his studio, brush in hand, maybe squinting at some distant memory. What was he thinking when he decided to put that lavender stripe right there? It's kind of jarring and calming, all at once. It makes me think of Agnes Martin, but with a moodier, more romantic heart. There’s a conversation happening here, across time and space, between painters who are trying to capture something elusive. That little jagged edge of blue down below, for instance, it feels like a secret whispered from one artist to another, a little nod that says, "I see you, I know what you're doing." Painting is this ongoing conversation, this back-and-forth, where ideas are exchanged and transformed. It’s not about having all the answers, but about asking the right questions and embracing the ambiguity.