Photo of the Artist's Mother, Ball of String and Alarm Clock 1989

Curator: This is Avigdor Arikha's "Photo of the Artist's Mother, Ball of String and Alarm Clock," painted in 1989. It appears to be oil paint on canvas. Editor: Gosh, it's…unsettling. The color palette feels muted and claustrophobic. A portrait, a ball of string, an old-fashioned alarm clock--it’s the quiet sadness of objects, rendered almost dreamlike. Curator: Objects absolutely do seem central here, as opposed to traditional portraiture. The photograph of the artist’s mother anchors the composition. Consider what these specific objects might represent within the framework of memory. What does it say about what we choose to hold on to, what we deem worthy of remembrance? Editor: Absolutely. I’m caught on that ball of string, though. It almost feels…Oedipal, maybe? Knots, connections, a tangled thread leading back. And next to the photo of his mom, with the clock ticking away--very heavy implications of motherhood, family ties, childhood anxieties about time and home. Is that a stretch? Curator: I wouldn’t dismiss that entirely, no. Psychoanalytically, the circular form of the string echoes cycles – the cycle of life, of return. And, indeed, in domestic iconography, thread and string often become entangled with women's work, with labor and domestic continuity. The ripped paper on the wall is quite jarring, juxtaposed with this neat little domestic scene. It hints at something more unruly. Editor: True. It makes the overall impact far less comforting than just some dusty portrait with antique décor. Also, the photo looks quite aged, like one from a 1940’s studio--or perhaps that is the artist emphasizing the generational span. Is there anything to be inferred about choosing this painting medium rather than… a photo? Curator: Perhaps a comment on time's mutability. Photos feel fixed, frozen. The oil allows Arikha to filter his mother, memory, and home through a more emotionally-charged, fluid medium. Editor: Okay, I’m now finding some new perspective. Originally, I felt an instinctive melancholy. Curator: Right, and now? Editor: Now? It still has a slightly claustrophobic effect but it is mixed now with, perhaps, more… empathy? Curator: A compelling duality; a push and pull as lasting as time itself.