Portrait de Francis Poulenc 1920

Editor: So here we have Jacques-Émile Blanche's "Portrait de Francis Poulenc," painted in 1920. There's a stillness about this figure, this famous composer. But also a quiet intensity. The brushstrokes, especially in the background, give the whole piece a somewhat melancholic air, I think. What do you see in this portrait, that maybe I’m missing? Curator: Oh, absolutely, that melancholy hums through it. Blanche had such an intuitive sense for the spirit of the sitter, don't you think? It feels so honest, and intimate. The war had just ended, after all. Poulenc is in uniform, but the real story isn't in the khaki, it’s in the eyes. Think of the war’s trauma and the emerging modern sensibilities - he is readying to make something new and wonderful of his life. What’s more modern than that? Editor: That's interesting, to think of the uniform not as a symbol of service, but almost of transition. A kind of shedding of the past? Curator: Precisely. He’s poised, on the verge of this explosion of musical creativity. I feel Blanche captures that waiting moment so perfectly. It's not bombastic or grand, it's hushed anticipation. Editor: I can see that. It does make me consider the background a little more actively; a hazy, soft surrounding about to be broken apart and transformed. It does feel like the cusp of something, as you say. Thanks for your insights. Curator: My pleasure entirely. It’s just lovely to dwell in these moments of transition and consider all that they carry.