Portrait of Sculptor
N.L. Aronson
circa 1904
Rather
than just Aronson's face, at least two others haunt the canvas with their
detached stares. Whether in stone, bronze or flesh, each expresses a state of
being lost in a self-made vacuum. One could easily place these figures in a
crowded train or on a bench at the edge of park and not question their
seemingly blank looks, but with the way Kustodiev has wrapped their faces in
either deep bays of shadow or in surges of hair he managed to bring out an
almost heroic, end-of-the-battle sense of exhaustion - one that is not,
perhaps, found in every-day life.
Their
poses are classical. That of the Symbolist sculptor rivals the others' in that
his lips, rather than just his eyes, reveal what is taking place in his head.
He is not in complete control of his reflexes: his jaw falls slightly, his lips
part a bit and his left shoulder slopes downwards - all without he being fully
aware. Kustodiev caught him as his mind shifted from his present surroundings
to a more surreal world which he alone knew best. Not only do he and his works
haunt the scene, but he, too, is haunted by his own thoughts. He still lives
and breathes while his unfinished sculptures only form shapes on dead, cold
materials. They surround him like an audience indifferent to what he is
feeling; they represent the past - maybe even the dead - while Aronson
represents the future.
