Katya with grains 1933

Pyotr Konchalovsky painted this portrait, Katya with grains, with oil on canvas in 1933. I love the way the brushstrokes almost dissolve the little girl into the background. See how her face emerges from this haze of gentle browns and grays? I can imagine Konchalovsky, brush in hand, coaxing her likeness into existence, one dab of paint at a time. The paint is applied pretty thinly, so the surface has this matte quality, like looking through a soft filter. And that slightly worried expression – what’s she thinking? Is she tired, bored, or maybe just contemplating the mystery of the grains in her bowl? I wonder how long the painting took, it must have been hard for Katya to stay still. Konchalovsky reminds me of artists like Bonnard, who use color and light to create mood and feeling. This feels so personal and tender; an intimate snapshot of daily life. It’s a reminder that painting is, at its heart, about connection and exchange, a way of seeing and feeling the world anew.