Studie, mogelijk van een steven bij een meerpaal c. 1909

George Hendrik Breitner made this sketch of what might be the prow of a boat, near a bollard, using graphite on paper. Breitner’s mark-making feels immediate, like he’s trying to capture a fleeting impression. The lines are tentative, searching, as if he’s figuring out the forms as he goes. The texture of the paper shows through, adding a kind of atmospheric haze to the scene. Some lines are dark and assertive, others are barely there, just whispers of tone. Look at the way he’s suggested the shape of the boat’s prow, with just a few bold strokes, then compare that to the fuzzier, more indistinct rendering of the bollard. It's like a dance between clarity and ambiguity. Breitner was part of a generation of artists who were interested in capturing the gritty realities of modern life, and in that way I think of him alongside Degas, another master of capturing the fleeting moment. Both were fascinated by movement, and the way things appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. Ultimately, it's not about the things themselves, but the act of looking, and of finding beauty in the everyday.