Seated Woman, Back Turned to the Open Window 1922

Editor: We're looking at Henri Matisse's "Seated Woman, Back Turned to the Open Window," painted in 1922. It's an oil painting that kind of presents two worlds at once, doesn't it? There's a portrait and then a coastal landscape through the window. It almost feels like a stage. What strikes you about this piece? Curator: Oh, the dual reality is delicious, isn't it? Like flipping between waking and dreaming. For me, the interior is a riot of pattern – that amazing shawl, the patterned settee. It feels so intensely present, almost claustrophobic. Then, you have this calm, almost ethereal seascape flooding in through the window. The painting makes you want to hold your breath and dive into that scene with all of its blues, and greens. But, tell me, do you get the sense the woman is part of the interior or separate from it? Editor: That's interesting, I hadn’t really thought about it that way. At first I thought she was at peace in the interior space. Curator: Perhaps she is in limbo… unsure about going out in public, or returning from adventures in distant seas. In other words: undecided on whether she’s leaving or staying. Isn’t the interior the mind of someone deciding? Editor: Hmm, I see what you mean. It does feel unresolved. Almost like she's in two places at once, but fully committed to neither. Curator: Yes! And look at the way Matisse uses color! The flat planes of vivid hues seem to push and pull us between those spaces and states of being, just as an ocean current would. The entire painting shimmers with that energy! The world of objects, of colors, of fabrics... it’s like a garden from which there is no returning. The colors aren't natural, exactly; they're emotionally true. So, tell me: What's *your* favorite element of Fauvism's garden? Editor: It's such a freeing perspective, thinking of art being emotionally true. Curator: Agreed! Thinking about that frees the entire art experience and creates pathways into understanding.