A Favorite Painting 17

Jackson Pollack, Lavender Mist: No. 1 1950

The years after World War II were fraught with anxiety for a lot of Americans. No one knew if the economy might collapse back into depression. It wasn't clear if veterans, especially those who'd been in combat for most of the previous four years, could be effectively reintegrated into civilian society. Those who did not return left shattered families that, in particular, hinted at juvenile delinquency increasing in the absence of strong paternal influence. The Red Scare promoted paranoia and accelerated numbing conformity. Women who'd played their part in building the nation's defenses were stripped of their nascent independence and the options it provided them. Massive emigration had dramatically redrawn the racial, ethnic, class lines of communities across the country and as a consequence, longstanding social relations had to be re-examined. Revelations about the horrors of the Holocaust and the use of atomic weapons gave pause to those who imagined the course of human history as unwaveringly progressive and positive. Amidst all that, it seems to me that Pollack's work was almost inevitable and, amazingly, reassuring through its capture of the elements of dynamic beauty that existed regardless of those troubling circumstances (though that may be easier to say now with the benefit of hindsight). This painting, which I saw at the National Gallery in Washington DC, is both the embodiment of, and antidote for, the time of its creation.