Before the Singing 1930

Antonio Donghi painted "Before the Singing," with oil on canvas, and what strikes me is how he lets the process show, or not show, in different ways. Take the dresses, for example: the white one looks almost scrubbed, as if he’s trying to erase his own moves, while the yellow one, it's built up like layers of sediment, a geology of colour. The surface is so smooth, it’s like he’s daring you to find a brushstroke. And yet, in the shadows of the guitar, there's this beautiful mess, a kind of controlled chaos that makes you think about all the decisions, all the corrections, that went into making this very still scene. It reminds me a little bit of Balthus, but without the theatrical drama, as if he is saying that a painting doesn't need to shout to be heard.