Look at the signature. Upper right corner - "Kisling," then "Paris," then a date that's hard to read with certainty. He signed with his city the way a detective signs with a case number. This was his jurisdiction. Moïse Kisling's "Nude" is a study in contradiction. The skin is modeled with almost porcelain smoothness - luminous, warm ocher tones catching light from the right - while the background behind her dissolves into rough, gestural strokes of olive green and burnt sienna. Two entirely different paintings coexisting on one canvas. And those eyes. Oversized, dark-pupiled, staring slightly past you. Kisling always painted eyes too large. Not by accident. He wanted them to hold you in place while you tried to figure out what the rest of the painting was doing. A Polish-born painter who became the soul of Montparnasse, drinking with Modigliani, painting models with a tenderness that never quite tipped into sentimentality. His work belongs everywhere and nowhere - much like the woman in this oil on canvas, standing centered and calm, anchored by nothing but her own quiet, unflinching gaze. Quelle: meisterdrucke.com
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