Untitled 

Editor: So here we have an oil painting by Paul Ranson, currently titled "Untitled," that's full of curious details. The woman looks like she's performing some kind of forest ritual, surrounded by amphibians and what looks to be a burning cat in the background! What's your reading of this, what do you see in this painting? Curator: Oh, the possibilities are endless with this piece! Immediately, I am drawn to the artist's departure from strict realism. He leans heavily into symbolism. Can’t you almost hear the croaking frogs? That burning feline could symbolize anything from female power to repressed desires, maybe even the witch’s familiar from fairy tales? Does it scare you, the fire? Editor: It is striking! I do wonder though, how much of the symbolism would viewers at the time pick up on, if Ranson never provided a title or explanation? Curator: That’s the enchanting part, isn't it? Symbolism became about personal expression; Ranson wants to hint, suggest, maybe even unsettle. Like poetry that thrives on ambiguity, inviting our own feelings. Think about it, do the frogs or toads spark a feeling within you? Maybe revulsion, fear, or curiosity? Editor: That’s true; it definitely avoids being preachy or obvious. The mood is set but its story isn't dictated. I guess I walked into this conversation wanting answers, but I am walking out appreciating its ambiguity more! Curator: Exactly! Sometimes the most powerful art leaves us with delicious questions, doesn’t it? Letting each of us dream our own version of the myth.