16 Paintings That Resonate
Where I try to understand why I like what I like.
There are two worlds in every life: outer and inner. The outer world is everything but you. It is blatant, unavoidable, and the sole focus of almost all societies around the world and across time. When we talk of exploration, we mean outer exploration. Finding unexplored lands, mapping ocean floors, flying rockets to the Moon and Mars.
Rarely do we mean exploration of that other world, the inner world. Your psyche. It is a quieter world and it is much harder to understand. Some rarely visit it. But I believe it is a world equally rich in treasure and depth as the outer world. Even more, I believe that exploring your inner world can change the outer world in dramatic and unexpected ways, as the outer is largely a reflection of the inner.
All this to say that I gathered a bunch of paintings below that resonate with me, and that I’ll be trying to understand why I like them in this essay. Because introspection requires a medium. To understand your thinking, you have to write out your thoughts. Don’t expect a deep analysis here. I’m no psychologist. I simply reflect on a few paintings that I’m drawn to, organized roughly by movement and in chronological order.
Romanticism
Romanticism was a reaction against the Industrial Revolution of the 19th century that emphasized emotion over rationale and nature over technology. I believe I’m drawn to Romanticist paintings because modern life, despite its tremendous richness, still feels stressful and hurried. Sometimes I’m tempted to drop it all and live a harder, but simpler life in the woods or on a farm.
These paintings by Caspar David Friedrich both have epic ruins. There’s the idea that we tried to overcome nature, but couldn’t because nature is large and powerful. Look at how small the people in the paintings are. They tried to rebel against nature, but they lost and they learned. Now they live in harmony with it. It is a reminder that we don’t own the Earth. We are tiny and insignificant, in both time and space.
Ivan Aivazovsky was a Russian-Armenian painter who’s widely considered one of the best marine painters. It’s easy to see why. How masterful his depiction of water and light. What I like most in his paintings is the drama. The ship that sways on the sea in the moonlight. The dramatic explosion that lights up the ships.
Ukiyo-e (浮世絵)
Roughly translated, ukiyo-e stands for “pictures of the floating world.” The floating world meant the hedonistic lifestyle people lead during times of rapid economic growth. Ukiyo-e is probably the horniest art movement I know of, with its Shunga prints and paintings depicting pornographic scenes that are shocking even for today’s desensitized eyes. But *cough* that’s not why I like ukiyo-e.
I like it because it’s from a culture I’m unfamiliar with. Take these paintings from Toyota Hokkei and Utugawa Toyokuni II. There’s the obvious, like the logographic kanji that are written up to down. But it’s also about the choices these artists made to depict their scenes. They do so much with so little. Hokkei doesn’t paint the base of the mountain. Toyokuni shows the rain by leaving everything out in diagonal lines.
Surrealism
I like surreal and abstract art because it subverts expectations. It shows you something that isn’t the way it should be, and in doing so reveals the things we take for granted. Below, the painting that’s a perfect replica of the view outside and the mirror image of the boy turned away.
Then there’s Zdzisław Beksiński. Also considered a surrealist, although his art style is quite hard to categorize. Whereas there’s often a sense of humor in the works of surrealists like Magritte and Dali, Beksiński’s paintings are darker and much more dystopian.
Pete Buttigieg once said that it’s the nature of grotesque things that you can’t look away (jokingly, in reference to Trump’s tweets). I believe there’s something similar at play here. Beksiński creates a mood that’s somber and macabre, but also fantastical and utterly compelling to me.
Abstract Expressionism
Abstract Expressionism was the first American art style to gain international influence, which may or may not explain a lot about America. I won’t pretend to be high-brow about this; I like these paintings purely for their aesthetic appeals. The colors, the chaos, the distinctiveness of each artist.
The most famous abstract expressionist is Jackson Pollock, who used his whole body to flick paint onto the canvas. His paintings reflect his passion and intensity, and they’re utterly unique for it too. When I look at a Pollock painting, I can almost feel my mind trying to find patterns, searching for meaning, while also realizing that the only meaning these paintings will ever have is the meaning you ascribe to them.
What Have I Learned?
There are some other art movements and styles that I’m drawn to, but I didn’t want this essay to become too long. There are a few common threads with all these paintings. It’s clear that I prefer the dark over the light, the somber over the happy, dystopias over utopias. This reflects itself in my reading and music preferences too.
And that’s quite interesting, because I’m not a somber or dark or unhappy person. On the contrary, I’m fundamentally optimistic about life and the world. I believe it’s a pretty good deal, and it mostly seems to be getting better over time. Perhaps I’m drawn to these darker themes as a rejection of the pursuit of happiness that lays on the Western world, which has always felt superficial and untrue to me.
I also evidently like the dramatic and the emotional. Apart from the ukiyo-e paintings, the paintings I like aren’t clean or sharp. They’re organic; they flow; they’re expressive. I’m quite an organized person who likes things to be a certain way, so it’s interesting to see my subconscious go the other way when it comes to art.
Finally, another common thread is the weird. A door to the end of the world, snakes for hair, things that don’t make sense. Paintings unwilling to conform to our ideas about the world. I like that, because I don’t like to conform either.
To be just like everyone else is, on the one hand, unavoidable. On the other hand, to live my entire life without ever figuring out my desires and going after them would be the greatest shame.
Amazing paintings! I'm especially drawn to Zdzisław Beksiński's art. Like you, I'm hopeful and optimistic, but the darkness in art just beckons.