Stained Glass Window 

Editor: Here we have what looks like Odilon Redon's "Stained Glass Window," housed right here at the Musée d'Orsay. I'm struck by the contrast. It feels both luminous and gloomy, with these vibrant blues and golds fighting against a lot of darkness. How do you interpret this piece? Curator: Oh, "interpret"—isn’t that just a fancy way of saying, "What rabbit hole are we diving into today?" Just kidding! (Mostly). Redon wasn’t just painting pretty windows. He was peering into the soul, hinting at mortality. The figures are cloaked, guarding the gateway; and isn't it strange they are in their attitude to embrace a skull? Editor: Mortality seems to be at odds with the colorful, radiant window, doesn’t it? Curator: Exactly! This interplay between light and shadow, joy and sorrow... That's Redon for you. But let’s not oversimplify; those figures – so haunting in their presentation. It almost feels like an inner struggle made visible. Doesn’t that hit a nerve? I guess it has become common during our time; after all, who hasn't been in struggle when staring out the window? Editor: That makes sense. And now that you point it out, the window has the form of an icon. But still, I want to call out the window once more. Curator: Yes, what could have happened to its bearer? That contrast highlights what it holds but refuses to give. Now it is up for you to uncover; and isn’t that half the fun? Editor: Definitely! I'll never look at stained glass the same way again! Curator: Fantastic. The best art sneaks into your perception to take you out of what it is possible for you to discover.