Vignet til St. Blicher 1826 - 1893

Curator: Today, we are observing H. C. Henneberg's "Vignet til St. Blicher," dating roughly from 1826 to 1893. It's a woodcut print held here at the SMK. Editor: My first impression? There's this enchanting storybook vibe radiating from this little scene! You have this stately woman watching on one side, almost part of the frame itself. In the center is this folk dance happening, complete with a piper providing the soundtrack, It's almost as though she’s the observer of another, more joyous, world. Curator: Indeed, the composition is quite interesting. We have a distinct foreground, where the figure of the woman in the renaissance dress and ornate floral elements establishes a clear boundary, separating us from the action unfolding behind. Then our eye goes beyond her to this gathering in a courtyard of dancers, and even a flute player! It almost depicts separate areas of consciousness. Editor: Consciousness indeed! What separates this woman from just cutting loose? Is she somehow above them? I get this overwhelming sense of nostalgic longing. Her stillness acts as a heavy weight that highlights the frenetic, blurry glee of those revellers behind her. Is it all just a memory perhaps? Curator: The technical execution of the woodcut adds to the romantic sensibility. Henneberg is deploying dense, cross-hatched lines for shadows, contrasting smooth, blank areas to suggest forms. Look at how he models her dress, versus how quickly he fills in the revelers with a more active, frenetic line-work. Editor: I see what you mean with the sharp contrast in detailing - she has gravity because of the amount of time Henneberg takes drawing her silhouette versus the quickly scratched folks behind. It is this beautiful little vignette—evoking a sense of yearning for a simpler, maybe a less-observed, way of life. Curator: And perhaps we could consider the medium, woodcut, here; known for its bold, graphic qualities, the deliberate choice serves to idealize simpler themes that harken to genre painting or illustrations from Medieval ages, drawing a clear distinction with our pensive observer. Editor: I'm so struck by the story here—one where we observe the unbridled joys that remain forever at arms length. Curator: It leaves us pondering on who's living fully in the moment and who is not, doesn't it? Editor: Exactly, it is beautiful, sad, thought-provoking... I need a beer now.