The lyrics to “Blue Moon” start out melancholy – “you saw me standing alone” – and end hopeful – “now I’m no longer alone,” completing an arc to dreamy chords. A standard that has never fallen from popularity, it’s now been construed by so many voices and instruments. Its title speaks to a cosmic rarity that stands for romantic determination, a moment that is pure possibility, to be taken or, devastatingly, left.

Andrea Fourchy was listening to a few versions of “Blue Moon” while creating these works, layering, as the song does, darkness and light, washing color over earlier starts while letting these echoes and outlines act as the paintings skeleton. The silhouettes of California trees and the magnified flakes of snow falling behind globed glass appear not only super-saturated but as watery distortions, flattened copies, covers of a cover. They are as loud and incoherent as what one hears when diving into a blue-tinted pool just to stare at the sky from underwater, the sound of near-isolation and weightlessness. Fourchy’s “cover” of the song pushes up against its undecidedness, too. It is bright, but an eeriness seeps through it.

“You saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.” It’s been said a million times, and yet, there are always other ways to say it.

Andrea Fourchy (B. 1990) lives and works in New York. She graduated from UC Davis in 2012.