Abakumov's Autumn
I fell in love with Mikhail Abakumov’s autumn. It’s been a long time since I looked at anyone’s work this long, this transfixed. Those colours, that carelessness — untidiness, even — in the strokes, and yet they work so hard to carry a mood and the finest shifts in the weather. You don’t have to be a particularly sensitive person to see the enormous love for our landscape in his work. Every study holds something of that ache of home, even though I’ve never been to those places.