Castor and Pollux 1922

Editor: Here we have Roger de La Fresnaye's "Castor and Pollux," painted in 1922, employing mixed media. The geometric forms create such a stark, almost unsettling portrait. What strikes you about it? Curator: Its unsettling quality is precisely what grabs me. Fresnaye painted this after World War I, and I see the shattered forms as a reflection of the shattered European psyche. Consider how Cubism, initially an avant-garde experiment, became a language to express the fragmentation of modern life in the face of mass trauma. What do you notice about the choice of representing mythological figures? Editor: Well, Castor and Pollux were known as symbols of brotherhood and protection... but here, that feels subverted. There's a real sense of isolation, especially with the flattened, almost mask-like faces. Are they even recognizable as the heroes they're meant to be? Curator: Exactly! That tension is key. Fresnaye uses these culturally loaded figures, loaded with ideals, and strips them bare, almost questioning the very notion of heroism after such devastation. Notice how the institutional function of art shifted then – art became less about celebrating national pride, more about grappling with doubt and disillusionment. What would this have meant to the viewer at the time? Editor: It’s almost a challenge to the traditional heroic narrative... like he's forcing the viewer to reconsider what it means to be a hero, or even a brother, in a world irrevocably changed by war. Curator: Precisely. Fresnaye gives the public familiar mythological figures only to dissect them to encourage a new way of critical visual literacy in an emerging global world. Editor: It's amazing how the historical context completely changes my interpretation of what seems at first glance like just an odd portrait. Curator: And it shows the continuous reciprocal shaping of art by society and society by art. Always questioning how visual culture constructs knowledge.