M. Loulou 1890

Editor: Here we have Paul Gauguin's "M. Loulou," painted in 1890 with oil on canvas. What strikes me immediately is the kind of flattened perspective and those intense colors surrounding the child. What's your take on this painting? Curator: It whispers of childhood, doesn’t it? Gauguin, ever the rebel, isn't striving for realism. Those flattened planes and heightened colors—that electric green, the almost psychedelic chair—they push us into a dreamlike space. Do you notice how the child's gaze drifts off, lost in thought, almost like a character in a fable? Editor: It feels…unsettling, though, doesn’t it? Like the idyllic childhood isn’t so idyllic. Curator: Precisely! Gauguin’s not interested in saccharine sentimentality. He's tapping into something deeper. This child seems poised between innocence and knowing. It's a portrait of transition, a fleeting moment where the boundaries between the real and the imagined blur. That frilly collar almost feels like a stage costume, doesn't it? Adding to the drama, perhaps? Editor: So you're saying it is about childhood, but seen through Gauguin’s unique symbolic lens. Curator: Exactly. And the choice to render the background in those unnatural hues further underscores that he's exploring the internal landscape as much as the external one. It’s less about capturing an exact likeness and more about revealing something essential about the nature of youth. The wild hydrangeas act almost as supporting players, wouldn’t you say? Editor: I guess I always saw Gauguin as a painter of the exotic, never imagined he would do something this domestic. Curator: Ah, but that's the magic of art, isn't it? Always full of surprises, ready to flip your expectations! "M. Loulou" invites us to peek behind the curtain of childhood, reminding us that even in innocence, there are layers of complexity waiting to be unfurled. Editor: That’s definitely a fresh perspective for me. Now I can’t wait to go back and see what other “hidden” portraits I’ve been missing!