'Self-portrait dedicated to Paul Gauguin', 1888.
Visiting Van Gogh, we notice Rembrandt gazing over his
shoulder, test of intensities of mood. What does a selfie mean to anyone,
outside those who know the portraitist? Just another face in the crowd. While
here is someone in some act of rebellion against the literalness of cameras.
For humans, there’s no end of fascination with the human face. Inscrutable as
January, radiant as June. Only, what is a portrait saying? More ink’s been
spilt on this question than is measurable, and paint, pencil, crayon, emulsion.
Pixels are innumerable as grains of sand and still time time is running out.
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