Avenue I c. 1924

Max Liebermann made this painting, 'Avenue I,' with a flurry of marks and muted greens and browns. I can imagine him, maybe standing right there, squinting in the sun, trying to grab the fleeting light filtering through the trees. It’s like he's wrestling with the scene, pinning down the essence of the leafy canopy and dappled ground. I sympathize, I feel that pressure to seize the moment. Look at the scumbled layers, the way the colours blend, making the foliage dense. I can practically feel the texture of the bark, that earthy smell in the air. It's a very physical thing, painting; you smear and smudge, layer and scrape back. That pinky mark to the right feels like a very deliberate move! This painting feels like a conversation with other artists who've stood in similar spots, brushes in hand, trying to capture the spirit of a place. We're all just riffing off each other, finding new ways to see and feel. Each gesture, each mark is a question, an offering, a moment of uncertainty that welcomes endless interpretations.