Kapelle, links Altar und Betstuhl, rechts unter einer Lampe ein Heiligenbild 

Curator: This small pencil drawing by Karl Ballenberger, housed here at the Städel Museum, captures the interior of a chapel with an altar and pew on the left, and an image of a saint beneath a lamp on the right. Editor: It feels unfinished, like a memory fading, all hushed lines and quiet geometry. It’s not so much a depiction as a ghostly echo of a sacred space. Curator: Ballenberger was really working through a certain understanding of form in this period, wouldn’t you say? Look at how he reduces the architecture to its essential lines. The ribs of the vaulting, the sharp angles of the windows—it’s all about structure, rendered with incredible precision. Editor: And yet there’s something quite dreamlike about it all. The lack of shading creates this ethereal quality. It feels like the sort of space one might encounter in a vision. Notice how the windows are these perfect shapes and lines containing virtually nothing? Curator: Perhaps it's his use of line as its own atmospheric device. A sort of formalism pushing toward abstraction. Editor: I like the interplay of light implied by the architectural choices and the saint’s location. One gets a strong feeling for its volume but also the silence you get when light really travels, unimpeded. Almost feels more like emotion rendered on paper rather than structure. What do you suppose the lack of date on this drawing means? Curator: Dating works on paper, particularly preparatory sketches such as this, can prove quite challenging. Regardless, it grants us a rare glimpse into the artist's process, this moment of contemplation within the chapel’s serene embrace. Editor: It's interesting to think that the intention might be more in the gesture and less on accurate recording. Almost akin to a sketch in one's diary more than any architectural rendering. What an opportunity it affords. Thank you for sharing.