Mongolian Riders 

Editor: Take a peek at "Mongolian Riders," a watercolor painting, possibly naive art, by Werner Peiner. The riders appear resolute, even severe. What story do you think this artwork is telling? Curator: It strikes me as a conjuring of history—almost as if Peiner dreamt himself into a past both real and imagined. I’m drawn to how the colors, despite their vibrancy, feel somehow muted, lending an ancient air to the scene, as though the dust of centuries is still clinging to those riders and their mounts. Editor: Yes, I also sensed that old atmosphere. The way the horses gallop evokes movement. I guess it speaks about power...but what does that mean here, if anything? Curator: Perhaps not 'power' as brute force, but the quiet resilience etched on their faces, a blend of determination and weariness. I’d wager this work yearns to capture more than just a historical moment. I sense the spirit of nomadism—the relentless journeying, the seeking of horizons. It hints at the stories whispered around crackling fires beneath starry nights, where tales of bravery intertwine with profound melancholy. What whispers do you hear when you look at it? Editor: I appreciate what you said about melancholy. Now that you mention it, the rider in the center does give me a more tragic impression than powerful, but I thought that was maybe my projection of our current views. Curator: Precisely. Great art speaks back, inviting us to project ourselves into it, enriching both ourselves and the artwork in the process. Editor: It certainly changed my initial read! Curator: Art is a dialogue—a beautiful dance between the maker, the subject, and us. Editor: Very well said!