Imagine you are composing a symphony. You hear the sounds in your head, you hurriedly sketch the notes onto the page. You push, you pull, you scratch out, you rearrange. Until, suddenly, as if by magic, it appears. Its done. Your gut is telling you no more, it is time to play.
Gerhard Richter’s paintings appear like a series of symphonies. Yes, he was listening to John Cage the American composer while painting them, but the paintings appear like a new symphony in themselves.
At times they are harsh to look it, at times melodic. I want to stand in this gallery, close my eyes, and listen. I know, if I do, I could hear the music – the life and soul – within.
It is a cacophony or a harmony?