Hoofd van man met tricorne 1727 - 1755

Editor: We’re looking at François Boucher’s “Head of a Man with a Tricorne,” dating from 1727 to 1755. It’s a print – an etching, actually – currently housed at the Rijksmuseum. It's predominantly shades of gray, almost ghostly, and that hat dominates everything! What do you make of this intriguing fellow, our tricorne-topped friend? Curator: Oh, he whispers tales of powdered wigs and clandestine meetings! The etching, with its delicate, almost frantic lines, really captures that Rococo spirit - a kind of controlled chaos. I find myself wondering what story that face holds. Do you see a hint of melancholy in the set of his jaw? Is it arrogance, perhaps? It's almost like Boucher captured a fleeting thought, wouldn’t you agree? Editor: I think I see that melancholy, actually. Or maybe resignation? I was so caught up in the hat, I missed it! It's amazing how much expression is conveyed with such simple lines. It's hard to imagine who he could have been; maybe a dignitary. Did Boucher have particular people in mind or was this generalized, perhaps, to show off an ability to capture different perspectives? Curator: Possibly a bit of both? He’s probably an amalgamation, an echo of the aristocratic figures swirling through the French court. What is truly intriguing is how Boucher manages to convey so much social information - wealth, status - without a splash of color. Everything exists solely in the dimension of the line. It's the equivalent of sketching a symphony. Do you feel like the artist tried to put in so many flourishes of style into just one expression? Editor: Absolutely, I was sort of taken by all the artistic details – not as much his emotions, as his being aristocratic or otherwise affluent! It’s remarkable! I'll certainly pay closer attention to those details next time. Curator: Wonderful. To really observe and take our time -- that's how art pulls you into its silent conversation. It has certainly sparked my mind today.