The Spring Sun 1913

Curator: Abraham Manievich, a painter born in what is now Belarus, created this piece, "The Spring Sun", in 1913, using oil paints to capture a fascinating cityscape. Editor: It’s almost a brutalist landscape. The color palette is really muted and spare. I see harsh shadows—a lot of angular forms. It looks nothing like what I think of when I picture spring. Curator: But look at how Manievich uses impasto; the way he layers and manipulates the oil paint gives the canvas a rough, almost tactile texture. You can sense the raw materiality of his craft and his labor through these heavy strokes. And his palette—it hints at warmth to come, doesn't it? The muted hues, browns, and grays, almost ready to explode with color. Editor: It is clear he put an incredible amount of work in this. It looks like labor. To me the ladder becomes a focal point here. It's like the scaffolding that holds up not just a building, but society, maybe, and you could also link this back to the availability of material for painting. He had to find pigments to apply onto that canvas. It had to be manufactured in a period setting of labor exploitation... Curator: Do you ever think the opposite? I'm not so sure the ladder does evoke labor exploitation. Look how the branches reach—like grasping hands towards that distant sky. I think it’s about hope, a sense of yearning towards something bigger. Maybe it’s the "spring" in "The Spring Sun" pulling us into its warmth. I like your suggestion that it has to do with materials. Do we really believe that Manievich's exploitation could show through the material though? Isn't it something about the feeling of Spring in that very particular setting, in his world? Editor: Well, maybe both, right? That desire, that potential for warmth and growth is undeniable, yet filtered through lived experience. The making of this oil painting involved human hands, but also natural materials which makes me wonder how that connects with modernism in general? Curator: Maybe that’s the key to unlocking this particular modernist view of Spring... the feeling that blooms right before something really special bursts through. Editor: Yes, something potent beneath an otherwise somber surface... Curator: An invitation to step inside this cityscape and become part of its evolving narrative.