The Enigma 1871

Editor: So, this is Gustave Doré's "The Enigma" from 1871. It’s a charcoal drawing, currently hanging at the Lisson Gallery. Honestly, the somber tones and the swirling clouds above figures evoke a sense of profound grief. What's your read on this work? Curator: It whispers, doesn't it? Like a forgotten tragedy retold in charcoal dust. To me, Doré captures that fleeting, melancholic space between reality and dream. Do you see how the sky dominates the composition? Almost swallowing the figures below. Editor: Absolutely! It's as if the heavens themselves are weeping. But who are those figures down there, huddling together? Are they even human? Curator: Ah, the enigma within “The Enigma.” Doré often played with blurring the lines. Look closely. One might see echoes of fallen soldiers. Maybe the figure embracing them is an angel of mercy, or perhaps just another victim seeking solace. Editor: So, it’s not necessarily one clear narrative? It leaves it open to interpretation, which adds to the mood. I am curious what this piece says in light of it being created right after the Franco Prussian war. Curator: Precisely. After that kind of collective trauma, certainties dissolve. The work mirrors that feeling of uncertainty. Were these really victories or defeats? Are they the product of strength, or an outcome of sorrow? Doré offers no easy answers, just raw emotion etched in charcoal. Do you feel that uncertainty yourself when you look at this image? Editor: Definitely! It’s uncomfortable, but beautiful in a dark, Romantic way. It definitely resonates with a sense of confusion and deep sadness. Thanks for making me think a bit deeper about it. Curator: My pleasure. Art's greatest gift is in letting us feel, even the uncomfortable bits. That charcoal speaks volumes about enduring human experience and emotion, doesn't it?