Joaquín Sorolla, 'Valencian Fishermen', 1895

In the evening sun, the sea washes round the bare feet and ankles of two fishermen, soaking their threadbare trousers. It plays around the edge of the huge creels, or traps, that shift with the movement of the water, showing the men’s dappled reflections as they work. This subtle sense of light and motion invades the whole picture, and indeed all of Sorolla’s extensive and exhilarating body of work.

The monumental figure standing upright in the water seems to have straightened momentarily for a breather, or be about to bend to his work again – perhaps both – but there is power in his stillness. The sleeve of his blue-checked shirt catches the sun. Round his waist is a dark red sash. His bearded face is shaded by his enormous straw hat and he holds a scraper. One hand steadies the creel balanced on his foot as it tugs with the ripples. This is a man practised in his craft.

The second man reaches down to clean the metal network of a creel, his face hidden under the hat that protects his head and neck. His white shirt is shabby and worn, with no buttons at the cuffs. The outline of his leg, bent at the knee, is visible through the damp, faded blue cloth of his trousers, where a shadow from the creel is painted with vigorous, almost random, strokes of black.

In the boat, a third fisherman spreads his arms, echoing the silhouette of the wide brim of his hat. He holds an oar to help propel the boat to shore, sitting in the stern of his two-ended barca pescadora, the traditional craft of the Valencian fishing community. Another creel is balanced precariously on the gunwale, with, hopefully, a precious catch within it. Above him the white sail begins to hang down in loops, catching the sun but no longer the wind. The man’s fishing day is done.

Further out, the wind picks up and the sea darkens to blue with tiny white waves sparkling. Distant boats scud before the wind, their white, lateen sails straining. Sorolla filled his painting with sound as well as movement: the wind, the splash and swish of waves, the scraping of knives, the flap of sails, men’s voices perhaps, the grinding of sand as the boat reaches land. He used the creels almost as totems. The giant half spheres glitter and glow at every imposing angle. They are the core of the men’s world and of the picture. The creel in the foreground seems to establish their significance but keeps us from joining them.

This was the second beach picture that Sorolla had painted, but the first painted outdoors. Grains of sand dried in among the paint prove that this was so. Later, he developed the genre with great success, with many pictures of elegant and delightful days at the seaside full of movement, light and incident. He also continued to paint the working people of the sea with sensitivity and empathy until the end of his career.