This picture has been somewhat intriguing to me. It has a particular aspect: it places the observer’s point of view in extreme evidence. The river water is almost at the level of the observer’s eye. In this sense I find very important the tuft of grass in the lower left: it is the grass that enters the field of view of the observer who is there, sitting on the grass. I mean, that grass tells me “You are there, you are sitting there, you are part of the landscape, because you are inside it”. It may also be because I spent long hours of meditation in similar environments and what I saw was very similar to this: the tuft of grass entering the perspective from under the eyes, inadvertently, the placid elements, the water almost at eye level. I would say that the real object of this painting is not the landscape, it is the observer. This painting is almost a mirror for the viewer. Other landscape paintings have the landscape as object, they are like postcards; here the landscape refers entirely to the subject, to me that I am looking at.
Another aspect that I notice is that in this picture no element makes a fuss, that is, it forces itself to attention. The sun above looks shy, as to say that it doesn’t want to disturb. The saplings express modesty, they do not intend to capture attention with flashy branches or particular shapes. This is called balance and is one of the qualities that is most difficult to achieve in any kind of artwork. Instead, I find the reflections accentuated, compared to what one would expect from a painting inspired by reality; but here I see a play on words, as if the artist was telling me: thinking is important; the reflection refers me to my unconscious, to what is under and within water.
I also see a vague presence of the dark, of evil, but very disguised: the mountains on the right from a rational point of view are mountains, because they are on the ground, but in the way they are kneaded they look like clouds swollen with angry bad weather; but reason does not notice it, because it sees that they are at the bottom and therefore considers that they are mountains. It is no coincidence that they are opposed to the timid sun, as evil is opposed to good.
Two main colors stand out: the green of the vegetation and the orange, which can be of sunrise or sunset. The green is quite unbalanced towards a dark warm that connects to the orange of the sunset; even the orange is not very bright: we have colors that do not intend to be invasive, they don’t want to draw attention, but they have every intention of contributing to silence.
The clouds at the top, despite being actually light, for their color, for the shape, for the impression they give of running downwards, towards the head of the spectator, look like threat, they seem ghosts coming out of an unknown world to bring bad news.
The complex, however, appears to be soothing, especially for that allusion at the bottom, far away, who knows what lies beyond that curve of the river, certainly hopes, possibilities of other unknown silences.