Nude in Profile 1975

Balthus made this pensive nude in profile sometime in the 20th century with oils on canvas, I'm guessing. The wall behind the figure is really what grabs me, that warm, sandy color, like something ancient and crumbling. I can imagine him building up layers of paint, scraping back, and then adding more—a real back-and-forth, like he's trying to unearth something. There's a quietness to this painting, but also a strange tension in the girl's clasped hands and her distant gaze. Her skin is pale, like early morning light, and the shadow and contour feels so soft, barely there. Balthus always seemed to be chasing after some elusive feeling, something just out of reach. It makes me think of other painters who obsess over the figure, like Lucian Freud, but Balthus has his own particular brand of weirdness. He's not just painting a body, he's painting a whole world of feeling. And that's something I think all painters are trying to do, really—to capture a glimpse of the human condition in a pile of colored dirt.