La Polonaise 

Editor: Here we have *La Polonaise* by Jean-Baptiste Greuze, painted with oil on canvas. The sitter's gaze is soft, her expression...wistful. I'm curious about the context. How do you interpret this work? Curator: Oh, she's positively radiating secrets, isn't she? Greuze was a master of these seemingly innocent portraits. It's tempting to simply admire the Rococo frills, but I see a young woman caught between worlds. Is she playing a role, "La Polonaise," as the title suggests? The ribbon feels performative, not entirely natural. What do *you* make of the slightly undone quality about her? Editor: I agree that it feels like a role... Her eyes look uncertain, but that red ribbon adds an intentional dash of color that pulls your eyes upwards...Is she maybe a young woman of status pretending to be a simple peasant? Curator: Exactly! The Rococo loved its little games of disguise, its shepherds and shepherdesses. But I suspect Greuze, in his clever way, is hinting at something darker, or at least more complex, simmering beneath the surface. Like a half-told story, you want to reach out and gently tug at a loose thread and watch as all unravels. It begs a lot of questions. What happens next for her? What did she dream about the night before? Editor: I can totally see that simmering darkness that underlies Rococo paintings, how it lends them that extra bite, despite all the sweet aesthetics. What an eye-opening perspective! Curator: Right? It's in those seemingly small details – the off-kilter ribbon, the slight shadow in her eyes – that Greuze speaks volumes. Keeps us guessing. And makes art history so wonderfully mischievous, don't you think?