Girl at the Piano (Overture to Tannhauser) 1869

Curator: This is Paul Cézanne’s "Girl at the Piano (Overture to Tannhauser)", created around 1869. The artwork is housed here in the Hermitage Museum, made with oil paints. Editor: It’s strangely unsettling. Like glimpsing into a very still, very quiet moment…a lull before a storm, maybe? Curator: It’s an intriguing composition, wouldn't you say? Note how the painting divides roughly into two halves. The girl playing piano occupies the left side, the dark presence of the woman sewing is off to the right. The geometric patterning of the room pulls these figures into an almost surreal union. Editor: Absolutely. It feels deliberately… awkward. Almost as though Cézanne is staging a scene more than simply capturing it. The cool tones emphasize a sense of domestic tension. I wonder what Tannhauser overture sounds like during all this drama. Curator: Cézanne seemed fascinated by Wagner at the time. Perhaps the girl is rehearsing; the seated woman is maybe her mother, passing judgment through pursed lips. Editor: Hah! The woman knitting might not enjoy the same dramatic flair that bursts from the piano’s opening chords. She is so demure next to the explosion on her right. What a stark difference to frame Wagner's composition through a modern eye. The two ladies almost compete within the same pictorial space, much like our two selves. Curator: Very astute. Do you notice the tension that arises from the varying textures as well? The lush upholstery contrasts sharply with the smooth, porcelain skin of the girl. I can imagine that Cézanne used layers to add depth. Editor: A painting about contrast, inside and out, maybe even in regards to sound and vision. Curator: A truly intriguing study in pictorial contrasts and implied relationships. Thanks for helping open our ears. Editor: My pleasure. It's hard not to see some musical parallels, you know, dissonance resolved through paint strokes!