Twee figuren bij de molen Rijn en Lek te Wijk bij Duurstede 1906 - 1907

Editor: This graphite and charcoal drawing, titled *Twee figuren bij de molen Rijn en Lek te Wijk bij Duurstede*, by Willem Witsen, dates to 1906-1907 and it’s currently at the Rijksmuseum. The scene appears subdued, with the heavy use of charcoal creating an almost ominous atmosphere. The sketchy style gives it a raw, unfinished feeling. What catches your eye when you look at this piece? Curator: Oh, you know, it's like stumbling upon a forgotten dream, isn't it? All those scratchy, anxious lines... It makes you wonder what Witsen was feeling that day at Wijk bij Duurstede. Did he feel small beneath that imposing windmill? It is very Romantic, don't you think? Those lone figures seem almost swallowed by the landscape and, oh, by the weight of that charcoal. You feel that? Editor: Absolutely. There is definitely a sense of unease there, or perhaps contemplation. Curator: Yes! And have you ever just stopped and listened to a landscape? Not just with your ears, but with your entire being? I think Witsen was trying to capture the *sound* of this place as much as its *sight.* It reminds me of trying to transcribe a melody onto paper... almost impossible, yet the *attempt* is beautiful, in itself. What do you think is more potent: the light, the composition, or his rendering of depth? Editor: The rendering of depth, without a doubt. The layering of the charcoal makes the windmill feel like it’s emerging from the shadows. It really amplifies the feeling of… almost being consumed. Curator: Exactly! See, the genius is in that delicious tension: holding back just enough to hint at what he wants to tell the viewer, like a good poem. These marks – they're the equivalent of whispered secrets. Editor: I see what you mean. The incompleteness almost adds to the emotional impact. Thanks! It’s definitely helped me understand the power of suggestion in art. Curator: My pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm off to whisper secrets to a still life.