Kop van een leeuwin 1866 - 1939

Editor: So, here we have "Head of a Lioness," a woodcut by Bernard Willem Wierink, likely created sometime between 1866 and 1939. It's got this wonderfully intense, almost melancholic mood, doesn’t it? What do you see in this piece? Curator: Well, for me, the lioness’s gaze holds an incredible story. It’s not just a portrait; it’s an emotional landscape. The artist uses the woodcut medium beautifully, doesn’t he? See how the stark contrast creates a sort of raw vulnerability, as if the lioness is peering out from a shadowed past? I find it hard not to imagine her in a dusty zoo, maybe dreaming of the savanna. Editor: A shadowed past, that’s a great way to put it. It does feel very intimate. It’s interesting how he’s framed her; makes her look so regal! It's such a strong image. Do you think there’s any symbolic meaning behind choosing a lioness rather than a lion? Curator: Perhaps Wierink was exploring the quiet strength and maternal power often associated with lionesses. Think about it: lions roar for dominance, lionesses hunt to provide. Wierink probably sees a deeper layer of symbolic truth there. Or maybe, I don't know... perhaps he simply adored cats. Art's a puzzle to which there's always a bit of missing jigsaw. Editor: I hadn't considered the maternal aspect. That makes the melancholy even more poignant, like she’s burdened by responsibility. I was so focused on the raw power of the animal. Curator: Exactly! It’s this duality, isn’t it? And the imperfect border—notice how it gives the piece an even more human touch. And let's not forget, this is a print, so there’s this element of…reproducibility; even her "wildness" can be contained! What a statement to make. Editor: That's a wild thing to consider: that she can be "reproduced." All of this makes me look at it with completely new eyes. Thanks! Curator: My pleasure! It's nice to find new ways to look together, like light finding a crack in a shadowed surface.