Palace, a sketch for E. Zamyatin's play, 'The Flea' 1925

This stage sketch, made by Boris Kustodiev for E. Zamyatin's play 'The Flea,' feels like the love child of folk art and political satire. The bold reds and blacks, those clunky palms, and the wonky perspective—it’s a riot of color and form, like a theatrical explosion on paper. I imagine Kustodiev, brush in hand, conjuring this madcap world. What’s he thinking as he paints those zig-zagging backdrops and that double headed eagle? Maybe he’s chuckling to himself, enjoying the absurdity of power, the sheer spectacle of it all. The paint looks thin, almost like watercolor, which gives the whole thing a light, ephemeral feel. But those reds! They're so punchy; they speak to the fervor and the fervor, the revolutionary spirit, but also hint at the ridiculousness of pomp and circumstance. It reminds me of Russian avant-garde theater design, where anything was possible, and the stage was a canvas for experimentation. It all points to how painting is just this ongoing conversation across time, right?