What is Paul Klee’s May Picture if not a patchwork? It’s not an aerial shot of beautifully arranged fields of flowers. No. I see pieces of cloth sewn together. And when my eyes hover over the upper center-right, I see that (most of the) lighter-colored pieces of cloth were used there… Something is unbalanced there. Although it could be just the wind that’s blowing, there’s something behind the patchwork. Is that the profile of a dog in a scarf? It could be, but it also doesn’t have to be. What is it? I can’t tell, and I’m not sure if I really want to know. I like the shades of red on the bottom left of the canvas. Together, they form the anchor of the whole piece.
Category: Blog
Side Notes on Paul Klee’s Coming to Bloom
In Coming to Bloom, Klee’s quadrilaterals touch one another only occasionally. Predominantly, each quadrilateral floats on the dark surface on its own without touching its neighbors. The vibrant palette reminds me of the colors of mood rings; the piece becomes psychological. The question I ask is: Are the colors fading? If we imagine they’re floating on dark water or some sort of tar, maybe they are. Or… the background is a surface on which information — quadrilaterals (squares, rectangles, and trapezoids) of different sizes and colors — is recorded. The information, however, is encrypted and cannot be deciphered. We find no (hidden) clues on the canvas that help us decrypt the meaning. Very likely, there’s no message that needs to be delivered. Only presence. Nonetheless, it’s a fertile land that allows interpretations to bloom freely.
Side Notes on Paul Klee’s Southern Gardens
In my study, nursing a bottle of beer, looking at a picture of Paul Klee’s Southern Gardens on my computer.
The triangles bother me a little, especially the ones on the top left and top right. On each side, an upright triangle’s nose meets an inverted triangle’s nose, reminding me of hourglasses. Could they be erupting volcanoes? I am choked by a discomfort when I look at the red, inverted triangle on the top right. Doesn’t it look like a dissolving heart?
The crowd of quadrilaterals, mostly consisting of squares and rectangles with rough edges, is what makes this piece aesthetically pleasing. Each quadrilateral is a box of organized chaos.
The plants in pots, I see them, but my eyes don’t dwell on them. They’re neutral transformers. They have only one job to do: transmute the canvas into a garden.
And the garden is beautiful, and it absorbs boredom like a sponge.
Bored Absurdist 