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In Across, Bert Menco portrays two figures reaching towards one another across a dividing line. Dressed in red against a mysterious, star-filled background, they appear connected yet separated. The painting explores themes of longing, human connection and the invisible boundaries that exist between us, capturing a quiet moment of hope and togetherness.

Athena, goddess of wisdom and strength, sits quietly beneath a golden sky. Her faithful owl watches over her, symbolising knowledge, intuition and protection. A colourful portrait of feminine power, calmness and inner wisdom.

In Blue Bride, Bert Menco portrays an enigmatic bride surrounded by vivid colours and dreamlike imagery. Her mysterious presence suggests a delicate balance between love, longing and uncertainty. Through expressive forms and symbolic details, the painting transforms a traditional symbol of romance into a poetic exploration of emotion, identity and imagination.

In Display, Bert Menco presents a mysterious figure adorned with fiery, wing-like forms against a richly patterned background. Vibrant colours and symbolic details create a dreamlike atmosphere, where innocence, fantasy and transformation come together. The figure seems to exist between reality and imagination, inviting the viewer into a world of wonder and mystery.

Bert Menco presents an enigmatic female figure surrounded by a world of vibrant colours and symbolic details. Her expressive presence evokes both strength and vulnerability, while the dreamlike composition blurs the boundaries between reality and fantasy. The painting invites the viewer to explore the mysteries of identity, emotion and imagination.

In Shamam Bert Menco portrays an intimate encounter between two mysterious figures. A pale, almost ghostlike presence leans towards a crowned woman dressed in vibrant, colourful robes. The painting evokes themes of power, temptation and human connection, creating a dreamlike atmosphere where reality, fantasy and hidden emotions intertwine.

In a mysterious forest, a red-haired figure stands beneath a wing-like canopy, her gentle smile radiating calm and wonder. Inspired by the legend of Saint Hubert, patron saint of hunters, the painting brings together nature, spirituality and imagination. A dreamlike world where the forest seems to hold a secret of its own.

Three bodies held in one quiet balance — light, reflection and the ground beneath our feet. Painted in the stillness of the Ragdale woods, it carries the calm of someone who looked up at the sky and saw a family. To live with this canvas is to keep a small cosmos in your home: warm, watchful, and endlessly turning.

In The Wedding, Bert Menco captures a mysterious celebration of love and union. Surrounded by symbolic figures and dreamlike imagery, the composition blends romance, fantasy and subtle tension. Rich colours and expressive details transform a traditional ceremony into an enigmatic story, where joy, mystery and human connection intertwine.

She stands as a heron stands — patient, elegant, slightly apart from the world. Bert loved the moment where a person becomes something else, and here grace and wildness share a single body. A painting for someone who knows that true elegance is always a little strange.

In Once Upon a Night, Bert Menco invites the viewer into a mysterious world where dreams and reality intertwine. Enigmatic figures and symbolic imagery create an atmosphere of wonder and quiet suspense. The painting evokes the magic of the night, where hidden stories unfold and imagination knows no boundaries.

A figure caught in the turning, where motion becomes prayer and dizziness becomes joy. The colours spin outward like a skirt in mid-whirl. It is one of the most joyful things Bert left behind — a reminder that surrender can be its own kind of freedom.

Painted late in his life, Ablaze burns with a heat that refuses to fade. There is no hesitation in it — only colour, conviction and the urgency of a man who still had so much to say. Hung on a wall, it changes the temperature of a room.

Every one of us carries a picture of home that no address can match. Bert, who crossed an ocean and returned again, painted his as a place of the heart rather than of bricks. Tender and a little wistful, this is a work to be lived with, not merely looked at.

A light held up in the dark — for whom, we are never told. Beacon is among Bert's final paintings, and it feels like a message left on purpose: keep looking, keep searching, someone is watching over the way. A singular piece for a collector who believes in signals.

Two lives, tied by something neither can name. Bound speaks of the closeness that both shelters and constrains us — love, family, history. Now held in a private collection in Chicago, it remains one of Bert's most intimate meditations.

College (1993) is a vibrant composition of sixteen individual studies of the female nude. Each figure captures a different pose, gesture, and mood, brought to life through bold brushstrokes and expressive colours.

The contrast between the structured grid and the spontaneous movement of the figures creates a lively visual rhythm. Rich reds, greens, yellows, and blues give the painting its energy and character.

A playful yet intimate exploration of the human form, where colour, movement, and expression come together.

Faces that seem to have drifted in from memory, gathered together as if waiting to be remembered. For an artist born into a family that survived the war, the presence of souls was never abstract. This quiet, haunting canvas now lives in a private collection in Amsterdam.

Seeing, hearing, touching, tasting — the scientist who studied how we smell painted the wonder of perception itself. Senses is where Bert's two worlds met: precise curiosity and pure imagination. It is held today in a private collection in Chicago.

Spring, summer, autumn, winter — a whole year folded into one luminous surface. Like the music it echoes, it moves from lightness to gravity and back again. A celebration of time passing, now cherished in a private collection in Amsterdam.

The one in the corner, the one wearing the paper hat — Bert always had a soft spot for the misunderstood. Funny and sorrowful at once, Dunce asks who the fool really is. It belongs today to a private collection in River Forest, Illinois.

An ancient image of tenderness, transplanted to the open American plains where Bert made his life. Painted largely at the Ragdale Foundation, she is serene, protective and unmistakably his. The family has chosen to keep this painting; it is not offered for sale.

Twenty-seven plates, one for each letter, each inked by Bert’s own hand. A child of a family that survived the Holocaust, he returned again and again to the alphabet that carries memory. Here the letters become living creatures — playful, ancient, and unafraid. To own it is to keep a small library of his heart.

Two figures, one breath. Bert inked each colour onto the plate by hand, à la poupée, so no two impressions are ever alike. It is a tender, slightly mischievous meditation on how we belong to one another — the kind of quiet humour his friends still remember him for.

Balance, as Bert understood it, was never still. Light leans into dark, laughter into sorrow. Inked colour by colour by his own hand, this print holds the scientist’s curiosity and the artist’s tenderness in one small, perfect circle.

Made in 1996, in the years he lived between laboratory and studio, this etching asks who pulls the strings. Its figures are bewildered yet defiant — a reminder that Bert never stopped questioning the forces that move us. Each colour was laid by hand; each impression is its own.

Twenty-five plates. Two ancient figures, long set against each other in stone, meet here as equals. For a man whose family carried the weight of history, this was a work of reconciliation — patient, luminous, and deeply personal. A print of rare ambition, made to be lived with.

Among the last plates Bert ever made, in 2025 — the year his life ended. Three regal figures stand together, dignified and watchful, as if guarding the world he left behind. There will be no more. To hold this impression is to hold one of his final words.

A single question, asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile. That was Bert: the colourful clothes, the humour, the gentle refusal to accept easy answers. Inked by hand, this etching invites you to keep asking — long after the conversation has ended.

Twenty-three plates bring the puppet of Russian folklore to life — the clown who longs to be loved. Bert felt deeply for the outsider, the one who is laughed at yet feels everything. This is one of his most intricate prints, and one of his most tender.

Two myths of struggle and gaze, folded into one. Bert drew on the great stories of antiquity the way others draw on breath, and gave them back to us with colour inked by his own hand. Powerful, haunting, and unmistakably his.

The Egyptian cat goddess, protector of home and joy. Bert gave her a knowing look and a soft, watchful grace. Inked by hand, colour by colour, she becomes a guardian for the home she enters — just as he hoped his art would be.

The leap of death — the acrobat’s somersault with no net below. Bert knew that every act of creation is such a leap. Graceful, daring and slightly absurd, this print captures the courage behind his whole life’s work.

What we lose, we lose forever. Bert the scientist knew it; Bert the artist mourned it. This 1999 etching is both elegy and warning, its creatures rendered with a tenderness that makes their absence felt. Today, its title carries a second, quieter meaning.

A star-covered hat, a warm yellow world, and little figures held high as though imagination itself had become a companion. There is playfulness here, but also something tender: the wish to keep those we love close, even in a world that will not stand still. Seen alongside Bert’s life story, this image invites us to hold on to humour without letting go of feeling.

Three panels open like three chapters of a remembered dream. A bowed crowned figure, a blue face holding smaller figures close, and a sun-like presence cradling a child bring vulnerability and care into the same quiet space. Bert described this work as another Madonna variation; its intimacy lies in the way tenderness passes from one panel to the next, never quite leaving the room.

Three faces gather close, each carrying a different colour and a different silence. One looks outward, one meets us directly, and one rests behind closed eyes; above them, playing-card symbols turn the darkness into a small theatre of possibility. Their closeness feels like a portrait of belonging — the extraordinary comfort of being together without needing to be the same. It is a tender way to remember the imagination Bert left with us.

At the centre, a seated figure folds into a moment of stillness while little green-clad figures circle a delicate yellow enclosure. The surrounding movement makes that solitude feel all the more human. Perhaps we recognise the private room each of us carries within: a place where memory, company and longing continue to move, even when we are quiet. This reading of the image keeps Bert’s world close without claiming to resolve its mystery.

A woman in red meets a blue figure whose world has quite literally turned upside down. Between their lifted hands, surprise becomes a kind of conversation, suspended against a purple field scattered with gold. The image offers a gentle, mischievous thought: closeness need not depend on seeing the world in the same way. In the spirit of Bert’s enduring story, difference becomes an invitation rather than a distance.

Two signs, two temperaments, drawn in 1997 when Bert lived between the precision of the laboratory and the freedom of the page. Water and air meet in soft pencil — a quiet portrait of the opposites he carried within himself.

Earth, water, air and fire, gathered by a scientist who never stopped marvelling at the world. Every line is patient and loving, as if Bert wanted to hold the whole universe in a single sheet of paper.

Hands that cannot reach, books that cannot be gathered. For a man born into a family that survived the Holocaust, knowledge and freedom were never taken for granted. A small drawing that carries a long memory.

Anansi the trickster spider and his clever wife Aso, from the West African tales Bert loved. Drawn in pen and ink with his trademark wit, it celebrates the cunning of the small against the mighty.

Bert was remembered for his friendships as much as his art. Drawn in 2020, in a year of distance, these figures lean towards each other with unguarded warmth — a gift of companionship made visible.

A figure held between falling and flying. In fine pen and ink, Bert captured that tender moment of uncertainty we all know — and made it beautiful.

Half prayer, half laughter. Bert’s jester bows with folded hands and a sparkle in his eye — the perfect self-portrait of a man who took life seriously and himself never too seriously.

The three-headed guardian of the underworld, tamed and led on a leash. Drawn in 2022, it is Bert’s mischievous answer to fear: face it, smile at it, and walk it home.

One of the very last drawings Bert made, in 2024. Its title now reads as a promise. The world he imagined does not end with him — it waits on paper, for whoever chooses to keep it.

The saint who saw a cross between a stag’s antlers and was changed forever. Bert’s drawing honours that moment of sudden wonder — the same wonder that runs through all his work.

Fragments caught on the move, playful and secret, as if Bert were sharing a page from his private notebook. Intimate, spontaneous, and impossible to repeat.

Two figures dance among the stars, light as breath. Drawn in 2016, it is pure Bert: colour, tenderness and joy, spinning in a sky of his own making.