Portret van een onbekende man op zijn sterfbed, mogelijk Van Volxem 1897

Editor: Here we have Auguste Danse’s 1897 graphite and pencil drawing, "Portrait of an Unknown Man on His Deathbed, possibly Van Volxem," housed here at the Rijksmuseum. The pale tones give it such an ethereal, otherworldly quality. What do you make of its almost dreamlike effect? Curator: Well, dreams, especially those close to dawn, often brush against the veil of the great unknown, don't they? Here, Danse captures that very threshold, the sliver of a moment before the soul might simply...float away. I’m struck by the ambiguity; is it observation or imagination, loss or transcendence? What’s your take? Editor: It feels incredibly intimate, like witnessing a profoundly private moment. But at the same time, the style, that "old engraving" style with light pencil work...it distances us a little, don't you think? Curator: Distance is interesting. I think that choice acts as a screen—the politeness to protect from being voyeuristic, perhaps? A quiet acknowledgement of mortality itself as a shared yet deeply solitary experience. Don’t you see a trace of kindness in it, though, despite the distance? Editor: Absolutely, it’s like he’s offering a gentle farewell. I suppose that blend of distance and intimacy is what makes it so compelling and perhaps strangely comforting, even amidst the gravity of the subject. Curator: Precisely! Death needn’t be just morbid, eh? A moment worthy of art is almost a way of gifting him to a species that’ll long forget its own heroes, as they fade with glory! Editor: That's given me a completely new perspective on approaching such challenging themes in art.