Oceans

Description

Oceans greet the senses before the mind, a rush of colour and texture that feels almost tactile, like light caught in fabric. The hexagonal format immediately shifts our expectation, turning the painting into an object with its own geometry, a little shore in the shape of a jewel. Centre stage, a dinghy tilts on the shallows, ribs exposed, paint scuffed, a survivor of weather now at ease. Around it the sea moves in rhythms of turquoise, lapis, and milky white, stroking the sand in soft repetitions that steady the heart.

Zahn chooses acrylic for its nimble versatility, and the medium rewards her with brisk drips, crisp edges, and cloudy veils. The sky is a theatre of blues, indigo pushing into cobalt, while a band of molten yellow slides like a late sun across the upper right, warming the scene without overwhelming it. The boat itself carries warm reds and siennas along its sides, which flare against the cooler water and give the vessel a beating pulse. Sunlit strokes of cream skim the surf, then dissolve into transparent washes, allowing the weave of the canvas to whisper through.

Compositionally, the hexagon behaves like a compass. The boat sits off‑centre, its bow pointing downwards, anchoring the eye and inviting a slow, circular reading of the scene. Diagonal sweeps of wave and shadow draw us round the edges and back to the hull. Negative space opens into a tranquil mid‑ground, where paler blues and whites mingle, offering the kind of visual silence that feels like breath. Zahn’s brushwork alternates between gestural passes and small, articulate marks that suggest splintered wood, chipped paint, and reflected light. She resists the urge to over‑describe, letting suggestion do the work of memory.

Peacefulness here is not emptiness; it is an earned quiet. The boat bears the scuffs of use, the kind of history that makes rest meaningful. Many will find familiar stories in this vessel at pause. Journeys that have weathered and returned, afternoons when the wind dropped and conversation softened, mornings where one sat alone and listened to the water talk in small, precise sounds. These common threads of life are embedded in the way colour leans into colour, the way edges blur and then reassert themselves, as if the sea were breathing.

Colour is not anecdotal, it is architecture. Blues cool the pulse and expand the space. The ochres and reds of the boat lend weight and human warmth, a reminder of hands that built, rowed, repaired. The yellow flare above is both sky and spirit, a lifted note that brings a quiet joy. Where the paint thins, underlayers gleam through, building depth without heaviness. A few intentional drips at the foreground break the illusion and return us to the fact of paint, which deepens rather than diminishes the sense of place.

Oceans is, at heart, a benediction for anyone seeking stillness that does not deny the weather. It offers the viewer a small harbour, shaped by colour and held by form. What journeys might you honour if you allowed yourself this pause, and what new course would appear once the tide turns again?

Artist: Zahn Engelbrecht