The city in these paintings is empty and it is dusk, or something like dusk. A color that doesn't quite belong to any hour, magenta bleeding into cobalt, a violet that has no source you can point to in the sky.
The buildings are rendered with a precision so exacting it borders on obsession: every window, every setback, every cornice accounted for, traced and cut and stenciled and filled until nothing is left to chance.
And yet nothing moves...
the-unibrow.com/daily-brows/…