by Roberta Smith

In memory, the still lifes of the Italian painter Giorgio Morandi (1890-1964) can sometimes seem like the medium's best comfort food — familiar, satisfying and a little monotonous. His repeating images of humble domestic objects — bottles, long-necked vases and little cookie tins set against expanses of empty wall and tabletop — can blend together and appear steeped in nostalgia.

This view is encouraged by the seemingly narrow circumstances of Morandi's existence: he died in the same Bolognese apartment where he was born and lived his whole life, with his three unmarried sisters. But when you actually stand before Morandi's paintings and prints, they provide a much more complicated, invigorating form of sustenance. 

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Source: http://www.nytimes.com/