Prentbriefkaart aan Willem Bogtman Possibly 1926

Editor: So, this is Richard Nicolaüs Roland Holst’s "Prentbriefkaart aan Willem Bogtman," possibly from 1926. It’s a printed ink photograph from the Rijksmuseum collection, a landscape featuring Mont-Saint-Michel. I’m immediately struck by how it feels almost dreamlike, hazy, with the carts and figures appearing small beneath that towering architecture. What do you see when you look at this piece? Curator: Oh, it's like stumbling upon a memory, isn't it? The way the light catches the abbey atop Mont-Saint-Michel... It evokes a certain nostalgia for simpler times, when journeys were measured by the pace of a horse-drawn cart. Holst, though better known for his socialist art and stained glass, seemed captivated by this image. You notice the figures in the foreground, right? Editor: Yes, leading those carts across the flats. Curator: Almost spectral, aren’t they? He captures that strange in-between state, where land meets sea, history meets the everyday. It whispers of pilgrimage, perseverance, and the quiet dignity of labor. This was most likely a purchased picture postcard, perhaps a memory of his travels in France that he felt compelled to send as a token. I see some words and abbreviations added to the card, probably some family affairs, "Hart. Gg," "Groeten Klein" meaning "Kind regards" to Little, and finished by the artists initials: "RH." And you were also talking about the materiality. Editor: Yes, how different the emotional effect of receiving a landscape is via print, ink and paper, as opposed to experiencing a photo on my phone. There's such a deepness to it, isn't there? Something special that transcends eras and forms of creation? Curator: Exactly! Editor: This has opened my eyes to how deeply personal something as ostensibly impersonal as a printed photo can become. Thank you!