푸른 눈의 여인

1918 was a grim year to be in Paris. German shells were reaching the city from long range, and Modigliani, tubercular and short of money, was in and out of the south of France, where his dealer had sent him hoping the milder air would ease his lungs. He had two years left to live. He painted heads like this one over and over then, drawing the neck out long and simplifying the face toward a mask. Often he left the eyes as blank almond shapes, unreadable. Here he did the opposite and filled them in, a clear pale blue set against the grey, so the woman actually seems to meet your gaze rather than drift past it.