This vision of the sun may seem both very close and remote, aloof yet deeply personal, welcoming and intimidating. One thing is certain: the dominance of the star in this erratic landscape is overwhelming, and it will influence the viewer in one of these ways or another. As was often his custom, the artist created several version of the basic premise, varying the colors, sometimes dramatically, to run a gamut of effects: often psychological, here they can possess the straightforward meaning of landscape changing during the time of day.
It is a violent image (the rays cut through the space), and there is something menacing in it — the rays, like a spider’s web, try to catch anyone trying to study them. Though the colors of the light are mostly bright and warm, it is the short thick red and blue lines that grab all the attention, disorienting the viewer. Indeed, lines play an important part here; piercing and deep, they run through the entire canvas as if trying to break out and continue beyond it. Consequently, another notable effect becomes the sense of speed — the speed of light — that overpowers the observer and eliminates the calm instilled by the rocks and the beach.
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Two compositional levels emerge: the first taking shape above the center of the painting, mostly yellow and white, formed by the circle of the sun and the yellow radial grid, and the second consisting of the outside landscape along with the scattered rays, which seem to contain all the colors of the rainbow. It seems that the former bright epicenter produces the most visual energy (not unlike in an atomic explosion), whereas the rest of the piece works to dissipate and contain it.
The sun and its reflection produce the shape of a light bulb, which could be a probable allusion to the use of artificial light. This similarity further builds the argument for the natural vs. unnatural hypothesis (Munch’s swirling backdrops in Madonna may also allude to supernatural effects — the elements, distorted, stylized, and emphasized conveying divine intervention). It’s as if the artist wished shake the viewers, cast them out of their comfort zone (the serene beach and the rocks) and confront them with a powerful all encompassing element, dangerous and unpredictable.
There is something iconic, in the religious sense, about this sun, referring to ancient creeds and rituals. It’s an enigmatic and complex painting (reminiscent, for instance, of El Greco’s View of Toledo, or Vermeer’s View of Delft — both predominantly figurative artists taking on a large scale landscape), and somewhat out of the artist’s vein. It resists and blocks interpretation — it just dazzles too efficiently.
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