Mother and Child 1914

Curator: This is Egon Schiele's "Mother and Child," an oil and colored pencil piece he made around 1914. Editor: Oh, it’s... intense. The way the figures are rendered, all sharp angles and nervous energy. The child’s eyes especially, they don't quite meet yours. There's a vulnerability, but also a certain defiant sadness. Curator: Schiele’s expressionistic style really captures that emotional rawness, doesn’t it? The stark lines and the way he uses color, it amplifies the sense of anxiety. The bright orange enveloping them both contrasts dramatically with their melancholic expressions. It was a tumultuous time in Europe; maybe he’s mirroring some of that unrest. Editor: Perhaps, but to me it’s also deeply personal. There’s an intimacy here, however troubled. A mother’s embrace can be protective but also possessive, almost suffocating, and you can almost feel that friction in the work. Does that come through for you, that claustrophobic sensation? Curator: It certainly hints at a complicated dynamic. The art world can place too much value on biography. His mother died shortly after this; in that regard, do you see it as him reconciling mortality or perhaps as simple filial devotion? This might explain his tendency toward more distorted self-portraits. Editor: Well, there's always some of the artist within any portrayal. His own anxieties certainly feed into that feeling. Considering his life and context is inevitable; though he lived during the war, these tensions in him probably didn’t spring up from that single event. Maybe those eyes haunt me. Curator: Eyes can be mirrors and shields, can't they? A perfect place to stash secrets, or ask questions to those secrets, depending on how things are seen. It's just that Schiele can give me chills in all the right places. Editor: Precisely. Schiele takes something simple like motherhood and lays bare its uncomfortable undercurrents. Thank you for walking us through "Mother and Child." It’s certainly left me with something to ponder.