Abklatsch van de krijttekening op blad 7 recto c. 1886 - 1934

This offset of a chalk drawing by Isaac Israels looks like it was made in transit. The chalk is grey, almost like the smudges of charcoal I get all over my hands in the studio. I'm picturing Israels sketching in a cafe, maybe, or on a train. He's capturing a figure, a person, or a quick impression of a place. I can imagine him pressing the page down, transferring the image, maybe to keep a record or to rework it later. It’s so ephemeral, this image. It's like a ghost of a drawing. Think about the surface of the paper, the grain, and the way the chalk grabs onto it. It's a physical thing, drawing, it's about touch and pressure. Israels captures a moment, then lets it slip away, embracing the accidental beauty of the offset. It's about seeing the potential in the unexpected, the beauty in the blurred and the faint. The act of making art is a conversation. It’s this constant call and response across generations. We painters, we're always talking to each other, echoing ideas, pushing back, and finding new ways to see.