Yesterday was Poetry Day. All day long, I was embraced by poems — at times experimental, sometimes playful, but mostly sentimental. And many poems in which the word ‘red’ played the leading role. I couldn’t help myself and took a Google journey through the shades of red, from apple red to raspberry and from Bordeaux to carmine. On GalleryViewer, I then searched for matching red artworks, following in the footsteps of the ‘blue’ quest I had previously undertaken.
“Time is a blackbird caught in a glass of red wine.” The image evoked by poet Ben Cami is elusive yet powerful. The blackbird, a symbol of the immeasurable and intangible, trapped in burning, tingling red. What is time if not the beating of wings in an infinite sky? And what is red if not the colour that reminds us that we live, lose, love and bleed?
Red is more than just a visual experience; it is an emotional state. Red is the colour of the heart, of love, but also of danger. Red calls for action, warms, but can also be a warning. In the works of artists like Hendrik and Paula Kerstens, Thirza Schaap and Athar Jaber, we see red not as a static colour, but as a living entity. The colour moves, blooms and like time itself, cannot be fully captured.
The poetry of a colour
In the work of Hendrik en Paula Kerstens, red becomes a bold and stimulating statement. Their piece Red Turban presents a surprising mix of refinement, aesthetics and a subtle reference to historical portraits. The red accent in the work seems to pulsate with energy, like an allusion to the seductive and sometimes overwhelming power of this colour.
Thirza Schaap, on the other hand, uses red as a transformative element. In her work Red Bottoms, red plays not only a visual, but also a narrative role. It raises questions about consumption, identity and expression. The red elements are not mere decorations, but powerful markers of presence, of wanting to be seen and heard.
Athar Jabers Je t’aime balances on the edge between brutality and vulnerability. The rough texture of the stone, shaped by millennia of erosion, sharply contrasts with the bold red text etched onto it — an exclamation that does not whisper, but shouts. Red, the colour of blood and passion, immediately draws the eye. It symbolises life and love, but also danger and pain. In this work, red seems to be dripping as a powerful marking — a signal that love does not have to be a subtle presence, but an intense, unstoppable force. By placing this raw expression on an unyielding stone, Jaber suggests that love can be both temporary and eternal, a moment of passion captured in a medium that will endure through time. The work confronts us with the paradox of human emotions — fleeting, yet with the ambition to be indelible. With Je t’aime, Jaber pushes the boundaries between sculpture, language and emotion. The result is a provocative yet powerful primal scream: an ode to the wild, uncompromising force of love.
The colour of survival
Throughout history, red has played a key role in our symbolism and culture. In prehistoric times, red ochre was used to paint caves — an early form of art reflecting humanity’s desire to tell stories. During the Renaissance, red was the colour of power and wealth, worn by kings and cardinals. It became associated with passion and rage, love and war. In art, it is the colour of both the transcendent and the everyday.
But what makes red so special? Why does this colour touch us so deeply? Scientifically, red is the first colour that babies can distinguish, a hue that immediately captures our attention due to its wavelength. It is a colour we instinctively associate with survival: the fire that provides warmth, but also destroys; the blood that gives life, but also bears witness to pain. Red is the colour of emotions — of passion and anger, determination and vulnerability.
The blackbird in the glass of red wine
In Ben Cami’s quote, we encounter the complex relationship between time and red. The blackbird symbolises the intangible nature of time. It flies, fleeting, always just beyond our reach. But in the red glass, it is held, momentarily captured. Yet time, like red, is always in motion. Even in its stillness, you can feel the energy, the tension of what is yet to come.
The blackbird in the glass reminds us that we are all trapped in our own perception of time. We count the hours, measure the days, but time always escapes us, slipping through our fingers like sand. And red? Red is the glass that forces us to pause, to feel. It is the colour of moments we never forget, of love that transforms us, of pain that teaches us.
In the art world, red is often a provocation. It challenges, demands attention. Artists like Rothko used red to create emotional landscapes in which viewers could lose themselves. In the 19th century, when cadmium red was developed, Henri Matisse painted almost exclusively with this colour. His work The Red Studio stands as a testament to its power. Red in abstract art is well known and Barnett Newman even asked Who’s Afraid of Yellow, Red and Blue?
Choosing is losing
With Kerstens, Schaap and Jaber, I have outlined only a few of the numerous works in which artists assign red a starring role. Their red is not just a colour but a story, an experience. Red moves through their canvases and sculptures, just as time moves through our lives. And just as we cannot hold on to time, we cannot fully understand red. It remains something we feel rather than something we know.
“Time is a blackbird caught in a glass of red wine.” This quote is not a definitive statement, but an invitation. It asks us to look, to pause, to feel. What does time mean to you? What does red mean? Perhaps the answer is not found in words, but in moments—the deep red of a sunset, the warm red of a glass of wine, the pulsing red of a beating heart or... in a work of art, of course.