Saint Paul c. early 16th century

Editor: So, here we have "Saint Paul," a drawing, print, and coloured-pencil work dating from the early 16th century, attributed to Master WZ. It has such a solemn feeling about it. Tell me, what leaps out at you when you look at it? Curator: Well, the halo resembling exploding tinsel, for starters. I find it quite striking—almost comically so, yet also radiating a peculiar power. The gaze of Saint Paul feels incredibly intense, as though he’s peering directly into my soul—or perhaps judging my outfit choice. What do you make of his bare feet? Editor: I hadn’t noticed them at first. I wonder if that has some symbolic meaning or was it a simple aesthetic decision? Curator: It could be both! The Renaissance had a penchant for imbuing everything with meaning, yet practicalities also played their part. Is he grounded, humble, or simply airing his toes after a long journey? The sword is impossible to ignore as well. Considering Saint Paul never wielded one, you know... literally, what might the choice symbolize to you? Editor: Hmm, I guess it signifies his conversion, turning away from his old ways to a "sword" of faith. Curator: Precisely! Artists loved layering symbols, letting us, centuries later, decode their clever visual puzzles. Think of it like a beautifully cryptic Renaissance tweet. What's your final take after our chat? Editor: It's shifted from just being a portrait to this wonderfully layered and witty commentary on faith and transformation. Makes me want to go find other Renaissance "tweets" now!