Portrait of Monsieur Aublet 1780 - 1785

Curator: This is Guillaume Voiriot's "Portrait of Monsieur Aublet," painted between 1780 and 1785. A lovely piece from the late 18th century, currently residing here at The Met. Editor: Well, he certainly seems pleased with himself, doesn't he? So at ease, plucking away at his guitar…there's almost a theatricality to it, as if he knows he’s being watched, eternally performing this elegant idyll. Curator: The performance is key, isn't it? This was a period obsessed with the visual representation of social standing. Portraits like this weren't just likenesses; they were carefully constructed statements about identity and taste. The guitar, the ruffled collar, the feathered hat… each detail carefully chosen to project an image. Editor: It's interesting, isn't it, how objects become almost extensions of personality. The guitar isn't just a musical instrument; it’s a prop that signifies leisure, artistry, perhaps even a touch of bohemian flair in a world of powdered wigs and rigid courtly etiquette. What do you make of that particular kind of casual pose that nevertheless appears like an emblem? Curator: Absolutely, it underscores the burgeoning cultural importance of the arts and intellectual pursuits among the upper classes. Aublet’s nonchalant pose is both aspirational and strategic; projecting a soft counterpoint of refined tastes against the backdrop of societal norms that increasingly valued bourgeois meritocracy. Editor: I see your point entirely, and yet, doesn’t he seem rather…flat? Not as a slight on the painter, but I almost think Voiriot failed to inject the man with genuine feeling! A very nice execution, I’ll grant you. He is very finely attired! Curator: True, and that touches upon the conventions of the era. The academic style, which Voiriot embodied, often favored idealized representations over raw emotion. His paintings weren't really designed to probe the inner psyche, but rather to present a polished and refined exterior—conforming with and reaffirming particular values. Editor: A gilded cage, then. I almost feel sympathy for Monsieur Aublet, forever trapped in this meticulously crafted image of himself. Curator: Perhaps that is where true character lies. We bring our own readings of people, their aspirations and regrets based on just a fraction of understanding. Editor: Well, whether staged or sincere, it certainly sparks a conversation even now. Curator: And that, my friend, is the enduring power of portraiture.