Marina Grande, Capri 1926

Konstantin Gorbatov's "Marina Grande, Capri" is a feast of blues, ochres, and creamy whites, laid down with a confident hand. I can almost feel the sun on my face looking at it. Imagine Gorbatov standing there, squinting at the scene, trying to capture not just the boats and buildings, but the very essence of the place, the way the light bounces off the water, the lazy sway of the masts. He's not just copying what he sees. He's translating it, turning observation into feeling. Look at the way he's built up the surface of the water with these vibrant stabs of paint. Each little dab is like a tiny mirror, catching the light and throwing it back at you. It makes me think of other artists grappling with the same problem—how to make a painting come alive, how to turn a flat surface into a world. Painting is a long conversation across time, each artist adding their own voice to the chorus.