Studie 1849 - 1917

Editor: Here we have Matthijs Maris's "Studie," created sometime between 1849 and 1917. It’s a pencil drawing and it feels...unfinished, almost melancholic, with that muted grey scale. What strikes you when you look at it? Curator: It invites contemplation, doesn't it? Maris’s landscapes aren't merely representational. I'm compelled to think about how 19th-century Dutch landscape painting often functioned as a form of national identity, subtly shaping ideas around land ownership and the relationship to labor. How do we reckon with the potential erasure embedded in romanticized landscapes? Editor: Erasure? Curator: Absolutely. Consider whose stories are often missing. Whose labor cultivated those picturesque fields? Were those idylls equally accessible to all, irrespective of class or gender? Who gets to be at rest in the Dutch landscape? Editor: So, you're suggesting the 'unfinished' quality might also speak to the untold stories... those historically marginalized within the dominant narrative. Curator: Precisely. What appears incomplete could be interpreted as a resistance to closure, a quiet refusal to perpetuate those erasures through a polished, perfected image. The ambiguity within the artistic representation holds a historical voice, creating new possibilities. Do you see the horizon in the drawing? Editor: Vaguely, yes. It almost blends into the sky. Curator: Interesting. The faintness makes me think about shifting social boundaries and how perceptions are easily manipulated. Editor: I hadn’t thought of it that way at all. I was caught up in the 'realism' of it all. It makes me look at not just this work, but landscapes in general, very differently now. Curator: It's exciting to me, imagining it reflecting all those critical questions of land, labor, and who controls the story we receive.