The Captive City 

Editor: Here we have what appears to be an acrylic painting, “The Captive City” by Troy Brooks, although it is undated. It's evocative; there's this solitary figure gazing out at a blurry, dreamlike cityscape. It almost feels like a memory. What's your take on it? Curator: It strikes me as a modern fairytale, the kind where the princess isn't waiting for rescue, but rather contemplating her gilded cage. The city lights become abstracted, jewel-like, suggesting both beauty and distance. It's pop-surrealism, and a shadow play reminding me of film noir, almost. Do you feel a sense of isolation from her stance, her posture? Editor: Definitely. Her silhouette and raised hand create this palpable barrier. There's beauty in the details of her hand and fingers, the nails reflecting some light in an otherwise shaded artwork, in contrast with the shimmering bokeh effect of the city lights. Is she longing for freedom, or simply observing? Curator: Perhaps a bit of both? The "Captive City" could refer not just to a physical location, but an emotional or psychological state. The neo-expressionist touch—that almost melancholic blurriness—gives the whole scene a kind of poignant ambiguity, wouldn't you say? Troy Brooks makes these hyper-stylized, idealized figures and I am curious, why? What do you feel she wants? Editor: It does invite speculation about her inner world. Maybe Brooks is using the city as a mirror, reflecting the figure's own internal landscape and emotions in an image of lights as opportunities? Or the dark outlines of highrises creating emotional and tangible obstacles to navigate. I learned a lot by just closely observing this artwork and appreciate how an urban setting can highlight a protagonist in a meaningful way. Curator: Agreed! It is a visual story asking more questions than giving answers and exploring those dark corners in ourselves, if we dare. Thank you, Troy Brooks, for reminding me to explore the blurred lines in my soul.