Tabitha #12, oil on wood 2011

Curator: Lu Cong's "Tabitha #12," from 2011, is an oil on wood. What’s striking you about this portrait? Editor: A quiet solemnity, definitely. Almost mournful, yet something about her clear eyes is resolute. The way the colors just barely breathe against each other contributes, this somber, contemplative atmosphere. Curator: It’s a compelling contrast. There's a classical stillness, something akin to a Northern Renaissance portrait with its tight focus and soft light, yet it’s undeniably modern in its directness. Do you feel the background has symbolic weight? Editor: Absolutely, a symbol-soaked landscape that grounds her emotional state. Those muted hills, they almost seem to mirror the gentle curve of her shoulders. It's nature absorbing and reflecting inner turmoil. I think her plain tank top might point to purity, and humility. The whole feels symbolic but raw. Curator: Interesting. Her gaze does meet ours so openly. Lu Cong has given us so little overt symbolism here, and somehow that amplifies the potential for each of us to find meaning in Tabitha's expression. The title also gives so little information away, it almost acts like a blank slate. Editor: A blank slate… yes, a mirror maybe? What an image presents and conceals! Her ginger hair reminds me of certain ancient icons— a beacon, hope? The landscape is definitely not random, something archetypal and old about that arrangement. This makes me think about time itself as a healer or a holder of sorrow, maybe. Curator: Precisely. There’s a timeless quality despite its very grounded, contemporary realism. The muted palette seems almost deliberately chosen to evoke memory and dream. Editor: Colors of memory... fitting. "Tabitha #12" is more than a portrait; it’s an invitation to ponder our own landscapes of the heart. Curator: It invites us to linger on the quiet stories held in a single gaze.