since childhood, i’ve been fascinated with the spectacle of fireworks. they instill in me some metaphoric eventfulness that holds both majesty and near-apocalyptic awe. for me the celebration of a new year is made complete by these thundering lights, and the thrill of standing beneath those exploding flowers in a drunken teary-eyed delight. i believe like with all other beauty, it’s the transient element that lifts it from a light festival to an extravaganza. to capture those moments is blatantly impossible and the greatest sadness of even the tackiest shopping mall display, is it’s passing. the little known british post impressionist artist, sir claude francis barry (1883-1970), had a penchant for painting these crackling fountains of color and light, and though not even getting close in approximation to the real thing, i sympathize with his desire to capture those illuminating moments.