What strikes us first about Man and Woman (1900) is its odd composition. Dead center, where we expect the principal subject to be, is a tall, narrow object that we only later realize is a hinged dressing screen, seen at an oblique angle. The figures are relegated to the sides. This disruption of the traditional way of organizing a painting forces us to investigate the two divided sides. Seeing the two isolated nude figures, we become voyeurs of this post-coital couple in their bedroom. The woman, now preoccupied with the kittens in front of her, lies on the bed seemingly unaware of our presence. A narrow band along the picture edge--perhaps a molding or part of a doorway--flanks the woman on the left. At the bottom, in the lower left-hand corner, a dark curved shape encircles some crosshatched brushwork suggesting either a basket or part of a coverlet. At the right, the man is holding a length of whitish material--a towel or perhaps a sheet--that mirrors the dark border at the left-hand side of the composition. After prolonged viewing the visual ambiguity in the work begins to reveal itself. What can the jumble of white brushstrokes behind the man mean? Is it part of a second bed, or is it a pile of sheets? The shadow on his face, the streak of paint across his left knee, and the odd light patches to the left of his shoulder all make us wonder whether we are witnessing the scene itself or looking at its reflection in a mirror or a window. Bonnard forces us to switch from one perception of the scene to the other. ©1998 The Museum of Modern Art, New York