And so International Women's Day passed by without much ado at all, and being back to abnormal normal I feel sorry for one of my favourite surrealists, Katherine Linn Sage, marginally better known as Kay Sage. She deserves more attention. (She was married to Yves Tanguy, a better known surrealist -- I don't know why.) As for landscapes, she had no equals.
Look at a Tanguy. Various odd shapes, forms incomprehensible as a foreign language, they mean something, but you might never learn what. Interesting as these heaps are, there's no point in looking up; the horizon is a blurred or a sharp line and that's all. (You find this among a score of surrealists, including Dalí.) Then look at Sage: Interesting things happen out there! She was a true landscape painter. Using strict forms, her works are very still and they don't seem to try to shock you, there are none of the usual shrill fanfares. But they stretch into infinity. After staring for a while, they become rather unsettling, the quiet moody, lonely architecture of uneasiness, etc., and I'd rather say no more but send you out to wiki or even -- if you can -- see her brilliant works live. She's worth it.