Portrait of Princess Pauline de Metternich 1860

Curator: Today we're looking at Edgar Degas's "Portrait of Princess Pauline de Metternich," painted around 1860. It's a compelling, if slightly unconventional, portrait for the time. Editor: Unconventional is putting it mildly! My immediate feeling is...claustrophobic. The patterned background and the subject seem almost pressed together. Curator: I can see that. Degas plays with flatness and depth in interesting ways here, doesn't he? Notice how the background pattern almost merges with the figure’s clothing in places, reducing the sense of three-dimensionality. It challenges traditional portraiture's illusionistic space. Editor: It's also the limited palette, right? All those muted greens and yellows...the lady looks seasick! Was that on purpose, a subtle commentary, do you think? Or just a stylistic quirk? Curator: Knowing Degas, it's likely a deliberate choice. Pauline de Metternich was a significant figure in Parisian society at the time, known for her sharp wit and strong opinions. Perhaps Degas is hinting at a certain tension or unease beneath the surface of her social standing? Editor: You’re right, she's far from conventionally beautiful in this painting. It's almost...frank. Her gaze doesn’t quite meet yours. It suggests someone who is maybe skeptical, or burdened. What is curious for me is how Degas used visible, textural brushstrokes to build form. This isn't photorealism. Curator: Precisely. Degas, though trained classically, was already moving toward the Impressionist aesthetic—interested in capturing fleeting moments, the play of light, and, as you pointed out, the texture of the paint itself. I believe her inner-turmoil may mirror his. Editor: Interesting. Well, it certainly makes you wonder what both of them were really thinking! It has aged pretty well, don’t you think? Curator: Indeed. It’s a complex and intriguing portrait that offers much more than just a likeness of its sitter.