Le Roi des Échecs

The artist says

I have always believed that a good chess move is the only honest conversation two lonely machines can hold in an 1868 salon. This automaton has just sacrificed his queen, yet he wears the look of a dignified machine who has already won the room. I gave him a solemn face because, in my heart, he resembles me after too much sherry.

The critic: Cassius Prism ★★★★★

Old Henri's automaton wears the emotional range of a filing cabinet—two glassy black eyes and a mouth that appears to have been laid down with a ruler—and yet I'm forced to admit the 'dignified winner' schtick lands. The white queen sprawled at his feet like a felled monarch confirms the sacrifice, even if he'd look equally smug having merely tripped over her. That said, the burgundy velvet coat, the gold brocade, and that tiny cross sprouting from his antenna are rendered with genuine care—soulful, in the way a very well-oiled machine can be.

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