The beggar of Livorne 1909

Curator: Modigliani’s "The Beggar of Livorne," painted in 1909. An oil on canvas, full of moody, earthy tones. What’s your first take? Editor: Those brushstrokes! Thick, layered. You can almost feel the rough texture of the canvas. The ochre and greens are heavy, evocative. It feels... tactile, somehow. Curator: Absolutely. It’s a visceral piece, isn't it? Modigliani wasn't just depicting poverty, he was, in my opinion, capturing a raw, very intimate humanness. The Beggar looks like he’s weary not only in his body but perhaps, even his soul. Editor: And yet, there's a clear contrast in textures that brings the painting to life. His jacket, and the way its pigment is spread, stands in strong visual dialogue with his inner garment. Considering it was created around the same time Modigliani was experimenting with sculpture, it begs the question of whether or not this was an intentional element? Was this his way of trying to simulate different levels of depth or surface through something flat like the 2-D picture plane? Curator: He spent time making art in a monastery near Livorno as well around this time… Perhaps something about the materials themselves connected to the raw realities the monks and beggars faced during the same era? He likely saw it as less of an aesthetic, and more like getting as close as possible to a reality, with the little he had. Editor: Right, the materiality speaks to a broader social context. The thick paint itself becomes almost a stand-in for the weight of the beggar’s circumstances. You're seeing it too: It’s the labor embedded in every stroke, the sweat, the scarcity… Modigliani makes you feel complicit as a viewer, because even as we observe it today in its completed version on canvas, you know a person, probably destitute, made it so, and also existed just like that. Curator: Exactly, It really pulls you in. What a stunning portrait. Editor: Yeah, heavy and yet also hopeful—the color does so much here.