Devant l’Opéra 

Curator: What a lively street scene. I find myself drawn into this oil painting; there is so much hustle. Editor: It's called "Devant l’Opéra," and the artist is Jean Béraud. Although the exact year is not available, this is an image typical of Impressionist snapshots of modern life in Paris, a slice of urbanity captured with great flair. Curator: The way Béraud handles the light, though, is what truly gets me. That hazy atmosphere somehow gives the scene an even greater feeling of reality, of actually being there. I find the dark-clothed woman standing in the front particularly enigmatic. Editor: Enigmatic and strategically placed, wouldn’t you agree? I’d suggest Béraud puts her in the immediate foreground as a compositional trick to draw us into the painting’s space. It makes us think of Parisian spectacle; who is out to be seen? Where are they headed? Curator: Or running away from! I see the charm you speak of, but look at her sombre attire and tightly furled umbrella, the steely resolve in her gaze. I don't see glamour; I see defiance! This may also be Béraud speaking, someone who would never receive institutional acknowledgement but never relinquished his personal voice and interpretation of beauty. Editor: Ah, there you go turning anecdote into agenda! Fair enough! But it reminds me that these images were made during a transformative period in Paris history, when the opera became this nexus for the upper classes but was accessible by public transit and thronged by all levels of Parisian society, a kind of theater on and off stage. I tend to see these Impressionist moments as democratic documents, if you will. Curator: Perhaps it’s not as simple as "either-or," Historian! Maybe it’s the blending of social critique and the exquisite mastery of color that still has me transfixed after all this time! Editor: Well said, Artist. Let’s leave it to our listeners to decide!