Three in the morning is either, or possibly simultaneously, the best or/and worst time to explain why a painting means anything to you. I recently discussed Unknown with Stephanie Lowery, a few nights ago, and our interpretations were, if not identical, complementary. This is one of my favorite paintings, and my appreciation of it is drastically different from what I appreciate ("enjoy" is certainly not appropriate) about Franz Stuck's "Wild Chase". The two works are at nearly opposite ends of the spectrum in the emotions they incite.

          Not being an art critic, I don't have a set place to begin, so I'll simply take the themes as they come to me. Were I to name the painting, I would most likely draw upon a Greek or Roman mythological source, or possibly a more general angelic theme. The woman depicted could certainly be Athena, loosely evidenced by the battle helmet and sword, although Athena is more generally shown with a spear. Also, the hair style is reminiscent of women in Greek art. Despite being a goddess of war, Athena also came to be associated with peace and wisdom, two traits exuded by the character in this painting, and also with the moon (although not as a personification thereof). However, intent of the painter aside, she seems somehow more than human, indicated by a number of factors.

          I love the otherworldly lighting. The source appears to be above and slightly to the right, moonlight by coloring, and centered on the woman. She shines in the diffuse light, set apart from the barren, bleak landscape behind her. It's as if heaven itself has opened to her in some way. The crag behind her and rock on which she sits emphasize her soft femininity by contrast, sandwiching her beween themselves and the instruments of war held in her left hand and the crook of her arm. Her pose is naturally feminine as well, in the graceful extension of her right arm following the aim of her eyes, and the instinctive posture of her legs. Her dress is light and gentle, as is her face. The dress, simple in design yet no less beautiful for its simplicity, was doubtless calculated for the same effortless femininity. One side has fallen without thought from her shoulder, exposing her shoulder and the side of her neck to the moonlight, and the soft transparency of the material itself gives evidence to the subject's womanly form.

          The woman's face is clearly the focus of the painting, as the artist has numerous cues which draw our eyes to hers. The mountain in the backround falls toward her, the sword in her left hand and her outstretched right arm point to her face, and even her legs and the slope of her neckline draw upwards. I am in wonder at how the artist managed to capture so many emotions and qualities in her expression. There is an undeniable air of strength about her, yet also the aforementioned grace and gentleness of form, all of which are seen in her face. Her look is one of deep compassion, of wisdom, tinged with sorrow. She carries with her an unassuming authority, possibly at war with her empathy. She holds responsibility with all the determination and strength that implies yet with a gentleness underlying it.

          The sword and helmet she holds imply might and deadly force, though her expression makes her a protector at heart. Doubtless she uses her weapon as she must, with no less certainty for the sorrow at her duties.

          It is for the wondrous mix of qualities that I love this painting. Her resolute compassion, gentleness and femininity uncompromised by her strength, in conjunction with her implicit role as protector make me long for her reality. You can lose yourself in her, trying to know what it is that she sees beyond the border of the painting, to share in her compassion and feel her grace. On one hand, I would love to speak with the artist to know what he or she envisioned for his inspiration, but perhaps it is better not to know, and to find within this work, our own.