What Makes Great Art—A Case Study of “The Thirteenth Question”

The Thirteenth Question by Natalia Lakes

In an age where art is often measured by shock value, scale, or algorithmic reach, it’s worth pausing to consider the timeless elements that truly make a painting “great.” Great art transcends trends. It holds a mirror to the soul of both the viewer and the creator.

1. A Distinctive World, Entirely Its Own

Great art creates a world with its own internal logic and emotional weather. This painting does exactly that. An elegant redhead with a flower in her hair—a seductress and a spy—is caught mid-conversation on a gilded rotary phone. Her surroundings are peculiar: a dragon flutters at the window, a coffee cup beside open manuscript, a box of decadent chocolates gleams in the foreground. These are not idle curiosities. They are evidence of narrative tension, and it is this tension that pulls us in deeper. In great art, there is always more than meets the eye.

2. Mastery of Composition and Detail

A painting is not merely a subject placed on a canvas, but a symphony of relationships between light, form, balance, and rhythm. This piece shows deft compositional control. The S-curve of the woman’s figure leads the eye from the top of her flamboyant hair down to the scattered artifacts on the table—a visual narrative arc. The background grid of window panes creates a sense of stability and contrast, anchoring the fantastical elements in something architectural.

Notice also the extraordinary detail: the varied textures—from the velvet of her dress to the shining gloss of the candied chocolates—reveal technical prowess. Every object is not just decorative but symbolic. The open manuscript suggest intellect and secrecy; the antique phone, a bridge between worlds; the dragon, a guardian. None of these were chosen at random. They serve the painting’s inner cosmology.

3. Emotional and Psychological Depth

A great artwork offers emotional resonance. This painting is suffused with mystery. The woman's expression is unreadable: concerned, flirtatious, distracted? The viewer is pulled into her inner drama, unsure whether she is receiving dire news or issuing cryptic instructions. This ambiguity invites prolonged engagement. Like a good novel, it does not give everything away on the first page.

The dragon, the books, the castle in the distance—these are Jungian symbols, resonant with the unconscious. They speak to archetypes: the sorceress, the hidden danger, the knowledge forbidden or forgotten. Such imagery transcends time and culture, creating a mythic emotional undertow that is felt more than understood.

4. Originality with Echoes of Tradition

Great art is never derivative—but it does participate in a lineage. This painting echoes the dramatic lighting and theatrical flair of the Baroque, composition nods to Dutch still life, the mood resembles fantasy art noir film. And yet—nothing feels borrowed. Her voice is singular. The woman could be a 1940s socialite—or a futuristic alchemist. The clash of periods is intentional and intellectually thrilling.

It’s synthesis—an artist absorbing influences and transmuting them into something wholly personal. That is what originality means in the highest sense: not novelty for novelty’s sake, but a fresh voice that knows its history.

5. Thematic Richness and Interpretive Invitation

At its highest, art becomes philosophy. This painting doesn’t just depict a scene—it poses a question: What is this woman preparing for? Is she a spy? An oracle? A dreamer caught between two timelines? The dragon implies something urgent or magical, but we are not told what. The manuscript is open—but not translated.

Great art does not solve a puzzle; it creates one. It leaves space for the viewer to bring their own psyche into play. It grows richer with time, as your mood, memories, and meanings evolve.

Conclusion

Great art is not about being instantly liked. It is about being endlessly returned to. It stirs something—a hunch, a desire, a memory. This painting is a perfect example of such enduring magic. With its technical mastery, layered storytelling, and unapologetic strangeness, it reminds us that true art is not a product—it is a portal.

To recognize a great work of art, look beyond surface beauty. Ask:

• Does it create a world?

• Is it executed with care and intention?

• Does it carry layers of meaning?

• Does it invite your mind and your heart into dialogue?

  
  

Does it stay with you?