Still Life with Profile of Laval 1886

Curator: What a somber still life. There’s something almost mournful in the muted tones. Editor: This is "Still Life with Profile of Laval," crafted by Paul Gauguin in 1886. Note how it defies conventional genre expectations of the time. Curator: It feels less like an objective study and more like a psychological landscape, doesn’t it? That single profile is intriguing – why Laval, and why just a glimpse? Editor: Laval was an artist friend of Gauguin, so the partial portrait infuses a personal, perhaps even intimate, narrative. There are strong currents of male homosociality here—a visual language shared among artists grappling with societal constraints and creative expression. Note the positioning in the top right, looming. What about that do you find striking? Curator: Its incompleteness—almost haunting in its fragmented representation. It recalls vanitas symbols. But these symbols seem more about artistic struggle, an inner self caught in contemplation. The ceramic piece appears primitive, earthy, even...brutal in its simplicity. What continuities might that suggest for you? Editor: Its form definitely alludes to ancient pottery. Think about the inherent symbolism of clay: its malleability, its transformation through fire, embodying themes of creation, endurance, and human intervention within natural materials. That visual vocabulary continues through diverse cultures across millennia. What really intrigues me, however, is how these objects act as stand-ins. Curator: Perhaps stand-ins for the artist's state of mind? He was, after all, on the brink of his move to Pont-Aven and a complete stylistic shift. Editor: Precisely! The shift toward what he might find…a place to express freedom? These arrangements aren't mere displays but poignant reflections of inner turmoil and aspiration. It’s really a fascinating portrait, or I suppose quasi-portrait. I’ve really seen something new today, looking closely together. Thank you! Curator: I agree—an unsettling still life, it provokes us to see the personal and political intermingled within seemingly quiet objects. And the impasto, heavy application—one feels his presence deeply.