(born in Graz in 1959)
Untitled, signed, dated Brandl 2000 on the reverse, oil on canvas, 250 x 600 cm, on metal stretcher, (K)

Provenance:
Galerie Mark Müller, Zurich
Private Collection, Switzerland

The glaring, painful light of day grows pale, fading into reddish-pink and light blue, blending in with the dusty haze of the trained city. An ill-treated body and its haunted spirit have found release and confidence in the decadent evening light. Only a few moments yet. Cool darkness. Venice and all, sfumato and all. Titian and all. And Tintoretto and all. And neon light and stuff. Count Vlad and stuff. And finally no colours and also no plans and ideas and also no purpose. The reflective surface of the Monet water lily pond is engulfed in the dizziness of the drunkard (theory). Who wouldn’t regret, who wouldn’t fear the approaching morning with its crappy light and dust. Never wash the brush out, always throw it away immediately, but not too far. When the colour dries, then we’ll see...
Herbert Brandl 2000
From: Herbert Brandl, Neue Galerie Graz, 2002

Provenance:
Galerie Mark Müller, Zurich
Private Collection, Switzerland

The glaring, painful light of day grows pale, fading into reddish-pink and light blue, blending in with the dusty haze of the trained city. An ill-treated body and its haunted spirit have found release and confidence in the decadent evening light. Only a few moments yet. Cool darkness. Venice and all, sfumato and all. Titian and all. And Tintoretto and all. And neon light and stuff. Count Vlad and stuff. And finally no colours and also no plans and ideas and also no purpose. The reflective surface of the Monet water lily pond is engulfed in the dizziness of the drunkard (theory). Who wouldn’t regret, who wouldn’t fear the approaching morning with its crappy light and dust. Never wash the brush out, always throw it away immediately, but not too far. When the colour dries, then we’ll see... Herbert Brandl 2000 From: Herbert Brandl, Neue Galerie Graz, 2002 The glaring, painful light of day grows pale, fading into reddish-pink and light blue, blending in with the dusty haze of the trained city. An ill-treated body and its haunted spirit have found release and confidence in the decadent evening light. Only a few moments yet. Cool darkness. Venice and all, sfumato and all. Titian and all. And Tintoretto and all. And neon light and stuff. Count Vlad and stuff. And finally no colours and also no plans and ideas and also no purpose. The reflective surface of the Monet water lily pond is engulfed in the dizziness of the drunkard (theory). Who wouldn’t regret, who wouldn’t fear the approaching morning with its crappy light and dust. Never wash the brush out, always throw it away immediately, but not too far. When the colour dries, then we’ll see...
Herbert Brandl 2000

From: Herbert Brandl, Neue Galerie Graz, 2002