Portrait of N.I. Zelenskaya 1912

Boris Kustodiev painted this portrait of N.I. Zelenskaya, with oil on canvas. The palette is subdued – blacks, whites, browns, and pinks – and a wintery light seems to pour in from behind the sitter, who has a quiet, stoic poise. I wonder what it was like to be Kustodiev, painting this piece. He was in his late forties and had been struggling with illness for a long time, undergoing multiple surgeries. By 1923, he was painting from a wheelchair. I imagine that the act of painting was incredibly important to him, allowing him to momentarily transcend the limitations of his body. The painting is a window for him to see the world, and for us to see him. The painting is thick with meaning, with the brushstrokes and colors giving shape to his thoughts and feelings. And what about the woman, Zelenskaya? She is leaning against the doorframe, as if she is both inside and outside, present and absent. There is a wonderful softness to the background mountains. The whiteness reflects in her face. Kustodiev gives us a person set in a place. Painters are always having a conversation with each other, and with the world around them, exchanging ideas across time. Every painting is an invitation to join in that conversation.