Completed scores 

Curator: Looking at this scene, my first thought is: heavy. You can practically feel the weight of grief hanging in the air. What do you make of it? Editor: Indeed, Fyodor Bronnikov’s piece, labeled as "Completed Scores", uses oil on canvas to portray what seems to be a scene of profound tragedy, perhaps even Shakespearean in its intensity. The artist doesn’t seem to provide further information to properly contextualize its creation. Curator: I'm particularly interested in the figure clutching her head, almost mimicking Edvard Munch. How do we interpret such raw emotion in the context of, presumably, history painting, a narrative art? It raises interesting questions about gendered expression, don't you think? The performativity of mourning... Editor: Definitely! It’s clear that gender is a central point here, as are dynamics of power. We have two lifeless bodies, presumably a couple, and the visible range of emotional expression from the women behind, their range of sadness. We may also speculate based on clothing and social status to infer a narrative. There is so much more implied than stated here. The very lack of explicit information can be generative for theory! Curator: Exactly! But look also at the Romanticist approach to painting, and it's interesting considering it may be interpreted as an illustration of "Romeo and Juliet". I wonder if it flirts with that idea while distancing itself with this obscure "Completed Scores" label. Editor: It’s as if the title challenges us: were these characters destined to play out their parts according to some grand design? The cool tones create a sense of doom, while the detail in the clothing hints at past grandeur, a world forever changed. You almost wonder, are "we" - the viewer - part of that plan, by being given access to its conclusion. Curator: Such an evocative reflection that circles back to a core argument. So what would you say this work left you pondering as you depart from it today? Editor: If our roles, particularly the romantic ones, have been predetermined; how much are we puppets and how much do we get to improvise our own damn song?