Portret van vrouw Possibly 1895 - 1898

Editor: We're looking at "Portret van vrouw," a pencil drawing by Antonio de La Gándara, likely from the late 1890s. There's such delicacy in the lines, and it almost feels like you're intruding on a private thought. What strikes you most about this portrait? Curator: The ghost of a feeling, isn't it? That's the genius. For me, it’s the *unfinishedness* of it all. De La Gándara doesn’t give us a fully rendered reality, instead a wisp, a trace of a woman. Is it the fragility of memory? Or perhaps a comment on the fleeting nature of beauty, or how we never truly *see* someone completely? I think he invites us to fill in those blanks. What kind of woman do *you* think she is? Editor: I imagine her to be rather introspective, perhaps a writer or musician based on her rather dreamy gaze and simplified costume. But, really, one knows so little from such simple lines. Curator: Precisely! This simplicity *is* the poem. It pushes past physical likeness. Did she exist at all outside the imagination? Look closely... even the confidence of some strokes are softened. Why this dance with vagueness? Editor: Perhaps he captured only what he wanted to? What she was willing to reveal? Curator: Absolutely. The power isn't in what is shown, but what's suggested. Consider her large hat and hairstyle; he outlines the forms of these shapes more heavily than the woman's actual face. She could have been anyone in that time, or no one in particular, really. Editor: So, we bring ourselves to complete the piece? Curator: We must. The image lives in the conversation between artist, subject – real or imagined – and, finally, us, the viewer. Editor: I’ll never look at an unfinished portrait the same way again. Curator: Then our work here is done.