Gauguin’s propensity for compositional stasis, even when his subject matter seems to lend itself to the evocation of change and movement, reflects his urge to perceive something eternal within the momentary. If you want a more direct glimpse of the inner tumult that impelled him ceaselessly to seek ever more distant shores—”le cerveau plein de flamme, Le coeur gros de rancune et de désirs amers,” in Baudelaire’s words; that is, the brain aflame, the heart fat with rancor and bitter desires—you must look for his comparatively rare paintings of the sea, such as Ondine/In the Waves (1889) and The Bark (La Barque), from 1896. Not only the swirling waters themselves but the off-balance figure, neither standing nor reclining, and the boat seen at an angle that makes it seem to be spinning in the storm—all declare the disequilibrium that drove Gauguin on, seeking primeval sources of grave and joyous harmonies. Full article.