A Bustling Solitude Named Abstraction
My dear friend, would you mind indulging me in a bit of a monologue? I don’t intend to lecture you on anything difficult. It’s just that, while staring out the window, those “grid patterns” happened to cross my mind. Yes, I am speaking of the paintings by that man, Piet Mondrian—those red, blue, and yellow compositions that seem so cold at first glance, yet are, in truth, profoundly passionate. I wonder, what do you think when you see them? Please, don’t be so gauche as to say, “Why, I could draw that myself with a single ruler.” Actually, those paintings share a startling resemblance to the “mental housekeeping” we all struggle with every day.
We live our lives surrounded by far too many colors. The gray of sadness, the burning red of anger, or perhaps that muddy, indefinable hue of anxiety. These colors mix and swirl until our hearts become as stained as a child’s clothes after playing in the dirt. Mondrian was a man who took those stains and peeled them away, one by one, with meticulous, almost obsessive care. Don’t you, too, sometimes feel the urge to strip away all the superfluous decorations inside your heart?
From Trees to Lines: The Transformation of a Wandering Soul
Mondrian did not start out painting those resolute grid patterns. In the beginning, like any ordinary painter, he depicted landscapes and trees. But gradually, he began to realize something. He questioned whether painting every single leaf was truly the way to capture the “essence” of a tree. He asks you: is the tree you see the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, or is it the strength of the roots buried deep underground? He began to search for the “skeleton” hidden behind visible phenomena.
He painted a single large apple tree over and over again. First realistically, then focusing on the curves of the branches, then concentrating solely on the points where the branches intersected. Ultimately, what remained were those horizontal and vertical lines. Doesn’t this remind you a bit of a life consultation? When we have a problem, we initially obsess over the “leaves and branches”—who said what, or what happened then. But if we face ourselves deeply, we eventually arrive at an extremely simple line: “I want to be loved” or “I want to be free.” Mondrian sought to prove that “skeleton of the heart” upon the canvas.
Primary Colors Whispering the Pure Joy of Life
Only three colors appear in his paintings: red, blue, and yellow. Along with white, black, and gray. That is all. Do you feel this is a “limitation,” or do you feel it is a “liberation”? In truth, these three colors are the source of every other color in this world. He wanted to place nothing but pure, unadulterated power there. The world is overflowing with colors like pastels—ambiguous, gentle, yet somehow evasive of responsibility. But Mondrian permitted no such compromise.
Red is the passion that affirms life. Blue is the abyss of infinite thought. Yellow is the hope of pouring sunlight. He arranged them in exquisite balance. Don’t you feel your own breathing steadying as you gaze at his work? Within it lies a terrifying sense of tension, where not a single millimeter of error is forgiven. Yet, it is precisely beyond that tension that true peace resides. You, too, when overwhelmed by work or relationships, must have felt saved by the sight of a single red flower in a stark white room. It is that exact sensation. Mondrian confined the order of the universe within those small quadrilaterals.
The Vertical and the Horizontal: A Prayer for Humanity to Stand
Why did he despise diagonal lines so much? There is an anecdote that when a colleague suggested, “Why shouldn’t there be diagonal lines too?” Mondrian ended their friendship over it. It sounds like a joke, but for him, it was a matter of life and death. The horizontal line is the earth; the vertical line is the human being standing upon it, or perhaps the will directed toward the heavens. He believed that stable truth dwells only where these two intersect at right angles.
In life, we often take a “diagonal” stance. We speak with irony or avoid facing things head-on. But I feel Mondrian is preaching to you to be straight. To lie down to rest, and to stand up to walk. That simple repetition is the minimum, yet greatest, ritual for a human being to live. The black lines in his paintings are not merely boundaries. They are “walls of silence” where different energies collide and maintain harmony.
The Hustle of the City and Broadway, New York
In his later years, having fled the fires of war to New York, he became captivated by the jazz of that city. It was there that his masterpiece, Broadway Boogie Woogie, was born. In a total departure from his previous serene style, small, colorful squares dance with a rhythmic pulse, like the lights of the city. When you look at that painting, can’t you hear the music? The urban bustle, the honking of cars, and the vibrant voices of people passing by.
Mondrian was by no means a hermit. Rather, he loved the “harmony” of this world more than anyone. The grids he drew were not the bars of a prison cell, but a mesh of love holding the world together so it wouldn’t fall apart. You, too, are a being that connects with others, adding color to the world as part of a grand, social grid. When you think of it that way, don’t those inorganic shapes suddenly seem to pulse with warmth?
In Conclusion: A Happy Simplification
Well, I have talked for quite a long time. I wonder if you have come to feel a little closer to this painter named Mondrian. His paintings may look cold and mechanical at first. However, they possess an ultimate stoicism: the sense that “if I have this, I need nothing else.” We tend to forget our true shape because we burden ourselves with too many things—wanting this, feeling lacking in that.
Tonight, before you fall asleep, just once, close your eyes and try to erase the superfluous colors within yourself. Then, try to envision your own “horizontal” and “vertical” lines. The axis upon which you lie quietly to rest, and from which you will stand up strongly again tomorrow. Mondrian’s paintings are a signpost for that purpose. There is no need for difficult thoughts. There is red, there is blue, and there is yellow. That alone makes the world sufficiently beautiful and complete.
Until we meet again. Let us meet in front of one of those square abstract paintings in a museum somewhere. At that moment, I am certain you will be looking at those grid patterns with a face slightly brighter than before. For you have already discovered the infinite freedom that lies on the other side of those lines.