They took their time with their greeting, embracing and kissing each other, indifferent to passersby. In this secluded courtyard, where the autumn air was moist and gave the cobblestone path a glossy sheen, they savored a moment of public affection they couldn’t share back home. While still somewhat risky, the likelihood of encountering acquaintances in the city, an ocean apart from their daily lives, was slim on a weekday. To anyone passing by, they appeared as just an anonymous couple, openly and convincingly in love.
After a moment, they headed to the entrance. Amina walked beside him, enveloped in the scent of his aftershave, rich with sandalwood, amber, and musk. She cherished how his fragrance, his dark skin tone, and deep voice evoked feelings of earthiness and stability. She missed this grounding presence. The separate lives and physical distance between them were becoming increasingly difficult for her. For now, she set these thoughts aside, focusing on their visit to the H’ART Museum for the Kandinsky exhibition.
They turned the corner into the exhibition area, which used various media to tell the painter’s unique life story, starting with an audio segment.
She looked at him, noticing his initial casual interest in the exhibition, evolve into engagement as the audio explored the theme of migration—a theme familiar to them both. They had left their respective home islands at a young age to study abroad, they met and fell in love, yet each chose to return home, to a different Caribbean island, to build their lives. The audio art challenged traditional notions of migration, suggesting that individuals constantly migrate from one version of themselves to another, through life’s experiences.
She relaxed into the moment. She had been hesitant to visit the exhibition together, as his initial reaction to some of the abstract paintings had been: “Amina, this is just hysteria, with colors, lines, and circles everywhere!” She now could see his interest in the painter and the painters’ life story had been piqued. They wandered through the exhibition, occasionally holding hands, savoring their time together and immersing themselves in the paintings, videos, and audio art.
As they approached the end of the exhibition, one painting particularly captivated him. It featured rectangular shapes in shades of brown and moss green, evoking a dark, somber mood. In the right corner, the painter’s signature circle was prominently placed. This time outlined in a stark black line, the circle symbolized his idea that one always finds their way back home. The paintings’ dark outer corners was contrasted by a central panel in light shades of green, red, and yellow, as if only that specific spot was illuminated by a hidden light source.
They leaned forward to read the accompanying text, which explained that the portrait depicted life in Nazi Germany, symbolized by the brown uniforms. It conveyed the message that even in wartime, amidst the presence of pain and death, one must hold onto the core belief that something better is possible; a timeless message of hope.
Amina absorbed the message, reflecting on her own life and their relationship, pondering if there could ever truly be a “them” beyond these secret meetings. How long can hope endure? Isn’t there a point of capitulation, when one feels crushed, unable to endure, and choosing to give up? The desire to bow one’s head in surrender, the fire extinguished, the will crushed, hoping for another chance in a future lifetime?
She glanced at him, noticing the familiar tightening of his jawline—a clear sign he was wrestling with his own thoughts. The silence between them was achingly familiar as they moved along.
They turned to continue down the passage and came upon a final large painting. This artwork prominently featured two distinct abstract shapes, each anchored at opposite ends of the canvas. Each shape boasted its own unique color palette and employed a distinctive use of lines—one characterized by straight, sharp edges, while the other displayed smooth, curved contours.
They both gazed at the painting, taking in its details before reading the accompanying text. Amina turned to him, meeting his smiling face.
“This is beautiful,” he said. “Very much like us, don’t you think? In the way we’re so different.” “Your love for softer colors and smoothing any rough edges…. Even mine,” he added with a smile, laughter lines framing his eyes.
She smiled. “Well, those edges are still there—neat and sharp. I’ve grown to like them.” She squeezed his hand. “If you look at it that way, it’s true, even your love for primary, bold colors is in this painting, and translates to your boldness and straightforwardness.” This had attracted her to him, even as it made her wary, realizing how different their lives and their perspectives appeared to be. Yet, they kept being drawn to each other, over the years, despite their marital statuses, children, and careers.
He pointed to the upper right corner of the painting. “See this figure? It looks like a baby’s rattle. To me, it represents playfulness and creative sparks. On the opposite side—my side,” he laughed, “it’s more like a wizard’s wand. Straight, sharp, efficient, nothing superfluous. Master of my world,” he added with playful drama. She laughed. “Still, if we talk about similarities…there’s also the effect one has on the other.” She pointed to the left side of the painting. “See that curved figure? And the background light pink hue—that must be my softening effect on you,” she chuckled. “Don’t you agree?”
He turned to her, a seriousness settling in his eyes. “You’re right,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “That’s what you add to my life—light, softness, tenderness.” Leaning in, he kissed her softly, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. A passerby brushed against them, prompting them to turn their attention back to the painting.
“Consider Kandinsky’s lifetime journey,” Amina said, “from adhering to established conventions of figurative painting to this final, abstract masterpiece. His fearlessness in challenging prevailing thoughts ideas, remaining steadfast in shaping both his life and the arts.”
Hearing her own thoughts spoken aloud unsettled her. She could only assume he recognized her underlying plea as well. She knew he shared her desire for change. The comfort they found in each other’s company was like the painting—two different people, leading different lives, yet perfectly balanced when together. Their life journeys had led them to this point, yet they now felt trapped by the lives they had built, unable to choose each other and embrace an uncertain and very different future.
He gently caressed the nape of her neck. “This painting was meticulously crafted, with each element thoughtfully placed and balanced. This piece—his swan song—is the culmination of his life’s journey- a intricate process that took time. The end result however, is beautiful: a carefully crafted composition where seemingly opposing elements coexist in a delicate, perfect harmony.”
As they walked on, he murmured, “I’m still hopeful. Where we are now isn’t our final swan song. We’ll find a way.”
She smiled sadly. “Our own unique composition.”
“Yes, our own perfect composition. We just haven’t crafted it… yet,” he replied, as they neared the exit and their impending farewell.
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Photo: Reciprocal Accords, Wassily Kandinsky 1942, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
References:
Development in Brown, Wassily Kandinsky, 1933