Ritratto di Riccardo Gualino 1922

Editor: Here we have Felice Casorati's "Ritratto di Riccardo Gualino," painted in 1922. The sternness of his expression, combined with the opened book and the stark lighting… it almost feels like a stage play about intellectual authority. What strikes you about this portrait? Curator: Ah, yes, Riccardo Gualino caught in Casorati's web. I see more than authority, though; there's a profound solitude. Gualino is presented almost as a luminescent bust, stark against that curtain—doesn’t it feel a bit like peering into the mind of a titan who's intensely isolated in his pursuits? Tell me, what does that open book suggest to you? It's far from incidental. Editor: I read the open book as a symbol of his public intellectual life. Is it fair to also say it is about wealth when considering that Gualino was a financier and art collector? Curator: Fair enough, because in that era, especially within artistic circles, didn't money whisper (or sometimes shout) its presence in every frame? But also, that open book reminds me of old Renaissance portraits where holding texts suggested virtue. Maybe Casorati plays with both angles, implying a powerful intelligence inextricably tied to worldly matters, with a touch of self-regard too? What do you think, does it sit a little heavy with you? Editor: I like how you put that! It does sit a little heavy – it's not exactly the inviting warmth I expect. This dialogue’s changed how I see this painting – the solitude and ambition… It gives the portrait depth! Curator: Exactly! Art isn't always a cosy blanket, is it? Sometimes, it's a mirror reflecting back our own complexities – the light and the shadow. That heavy feeling can sometimes reveal greater truths, yes? A powerful portrait, indeed.