Copyright: Rijks Museum: Open Domain
This is a letter to Philip Zilcken, written in 1906 by Eugénie Clapier-Houchart. It’s mostly words, of course, but when I look at it, I see an artwork in its own right. I find myself drawn to the texture of the paper, its gentle grain, and the faded grey-blue of the ink, like a cloudy sky. The handwriting is so fluid, like a dance across the page, so different from typed words, which always feel a little dead to me. The loops and swirls, the varying pressure of the pen, it’s a record of a physical gesture, a moment in time. Look at the way the lines crowd together at the bottom, and then spread out near the top, as if they’re breathing. It reminds me of Cy Twombly’s scrawls, but quieter, more intimate. Both artists embraced the beauty of imperfection and the poetry of everyday communication, reminding us that art is not just about grand statements, but also about the small, human moments that connect us.
Be the first to comment and join the conversation on the ultimate creative platform.