Evangelist Marcus before 1648

Curator: Let’s turn our attention to a rather compelling engraving: Christoffel van Sichem II’s depiction of the Evangelist Marcus. It dates from before 1648 and is currently held at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: Immediately, that lion stares out! It's magnificent, with such intensity, all etched in these stark, resolute lines. There’s something about the whole scene that feels a little caged, but maybe that's just the impression the dense lines create. Curator: Indeed, the line work is incredibly precise, almost relentless. Van Sichem clearly employs line to not only describe form, but also to create a sense of depth and texture. Editor: It's that texture that really draws me in! Look at the Evangelist's beard—the way those lines swirl and capture light…and of course the beast. How ferocious this meek man's spirit guide is. He seems almost oblivious as he pens his gospels. Curator: The placement of the lion at the forefront isn't accidental. The lion, is often linked with St. Mark and associated with the symbolism of courage and royalty. Editor: Exactly, and it’s that push-pull between the sacred—that halo hovering weightlessly—and the decidedly earthly growl of the lion that gives it such tension. Are those prison bars behind him? The architectural detail seems quite pronounced for what should probably just function as backdrop. Curator: The architectural features act, perhaps, to situate him—ground him in the physical world, but yes, with a feeling of confinement. Notice, however, the soft rendering of St. Marcus' features. He exists serenely in spite of that beast by his side. Editor: It’s as though he’s reached some level of divine concentration, and this wildness resides solely outside himself. I find that very moving. The choice of line medium seems particularly appropriate for the message! Curator: Agreed, and for me it evokes the period’s religious fervour but also artistic capabilities; a tangible expression of inner turmoil rendered with outer precision. Editor: Well put, It makes me reflect on what stories lie trapped beneath our own surfaces, awaiting release in words or deeds...or art!