By the Riverside 1892

Editor: This is "By the Riverside," an 1892 oil painting by Isaac Levitan. It’s giving me such a melancholic vibe. These boats just sitting there, unused, under a somewhat turbulent sky… what do you see in this piece? Curator: Melancholy is a fantastic observation. I feel the quiet drama of impermanence here, almost a theatrical staging of solitude. Levitan has captured that very specific light you see just before or after a storm, hasn't he? Notice how the brushstrokes on the water create a sense of restless energy that contrasts with the stillness of the boats? It's as if he's saying, “Even in stillness, there’s turmoil,” wouldn't you agree? Editor: Absolutely. The way the brushstrokes seem to almost vibrate makes me feel a kind of... anticipation, even though nothing's really happening. I’m not sure what this turmoil can be: a symbol of the boat’s possible journey? A reflection of an internal struggle of an implied human presence? Curator: Perhaps both! Levitan often used landscape to explore interior states. Do you think the earthy browns of the shoreline and the boats add to the somberness, anchoring the scene? There’s a distinct lack of bright, joyful colours. He almost sculpts the scene with light and shadow, creating volume and weight, no? Editor: Yes, the restricted palette definitely adds to the mood. I wonder, was he feeling particularly broody when he painted this? It’s not the most uplifting of riverside scenes, after all. Curator: Aha, good point. It’s less a postcard, more a page torn from a diary. He does have that effect on a viewer: it invites you to reflect and relate the artwork to your state of mind at a particular moment in time. Editor: It definitely does. I’m finding a strange kind of beauty in its quiet sadness. I guess that's the power of Levitan. Curator: Precisely! A master of emotional landscapes indeed!