Auguste Rodin 1910

Curator: Before us hangs Robert MacCameron's oil portrait of "Auguste Rodin," completed in 1910. It currently resides here at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Editor: The overwhelming darkness here feels so portentous, heavy. Is that intentional, do you think? The light struggles to break through, except, of course, on his face and beard. Curator: The lighting is key, especially considering the man Rodin was. In many ways, his beard, stark white against the dark, hints at wisdom but also an untamed force. In portraits, the beard is so often tied to male virility, strength. But this is less triumphant, more contemplative, wouldn’t you say? Editor: Absolutely. There is such palpable depth within those layers of paint; you can almost trace the impasto and discern how that lends to the three-dimensionality. I am intrigued, however, by that ambiguous shape to Rodin’s right – is that one of his sculptures barely emerging from shadow? Curator: Precisely! And it is that shadow presence that speaks volumes. Here we have Rodin, the master sculptor, defined as much by what is present as what is absent. Remember, Rodin believed in the power of the fragment to evoke the whole, leaving something unsaid and thus unfinished. Perhaps it hints at the continuous and cyclical nature of artistic creation. It is also said to embody an "eternal process" through destruction and recreation, reflecting perpetual motion through a range of dualities of states, shadow being one of those key components of his creative ethos. Editor: It's interesting how you bridge Rodin’s artistic process and philosophy to this portrait. The somber tone initially made me feel weighed down, but I'm realizing the power here lies in unveiling layers, creating an ongoing dialectic with the figure and with artmaking in general. Curator: Well put. By gazing deeper, one finds that interplay between light and shadow unveils not just an image of Rodin, but an artistic principle that can withstand the ages.