One: Number 31, 1950

Gazing upon "One: Number 31, 1950" is an experience. At roughly eight by eighteen feet, this wall-sized painting isn't something you just glance at; it pretty much engulfs you. The composition is a chaotic web of poured, dripped, and flicked enamel paint. There's no central focus point, so your eyes are left to wander through the dense thicket of black, white, gray, and blue lines, trying to find a beginning or an end, which, spoiler alert, you won't. This tangle of paint was created with the canvas laid flat on the floor, a revolutionary idea at the time that broke from the tradition of easel painting. The artist used sticks, stiffened brushes, and even basters to achieve this controlled chaos. While it might look like a happy accident, there's a recognized amount of control in the way the lines of paint skate across the surface. As for what it all means, the deliberately generic title was chosen to keep interpretations open. Some see the frantic energy of a modern city, others the rhythms of nature. Ultimately, the painting is about the physical act of painting itself. A quirky historical tidbit: during a restoration, conservators not only removed unauthorized repairs but also carefully preserved a fly that got permanently stuck in the paint decades ago. This artwork can be found at Museum of Modern Art.