Untitled [plate XXXII] 1958

This untitled print by Joan Miró is all about playful gestures dancing on the page in pink, blue, yellow and green. I can imagine Miró making this, maybe he was whistling, maybe he was thinking about the cosmos, or maybe just the pleasure of placing one color next to another. There's a blue circle, kind of rough and textured, like a little planet with its own weather system. Above it, a cluster of shapes, lines doing a little acrobatic act. The lines aren't perfect. They wobble, they have a kind of hand-drawn, human quality. It reminds me that painting and printmaking is all about touch, about the body meeting the material, and the image that emerges is just a record of that encounter. Miró’s kind of a surrealist, and this reminds me of other artists like Paul Klee who were into making marks that felt like they came from dreams. It's like they're all chatting to each other across time, figuring out how to make visible the invisible.