Kerkgang 1925

Curator: Before us is “Kerkgang,” a 1925 woodcut print by Jo Bezaan, currently held in the Rijksmuseum. What are your first impressions? Editor: Bleak! And maybe…suffocating? The high contrast and severe angles press down, don't they? Makes me think of shadowy figures in a Bergman film. Curator: Precisely. Bezaan utilizes the stark contrast inherent in the woodcut medium to emphasize the somber mood. The deliberate rough carving technique also contributes to the overall Expressionist feel, heightening the emotional impact. Notice how the artist directs our gaze— Editor: Oh, totally! Straight to those central figures. You almost don't see the church until a second glance. Those faces...gaunt. As if life has carved them, not Bezaan. They have the gravitas of a Greek chorus, ready to drop a tragic prophecy on you. Curator: Indeed. The formal composition is quite striking: the repetition of vertical lines, in both the figures and the architecture, conveys a sense of regimentation and inevitability. The high horizon line further compresses the pictorial space, amplifying that feeling of enclosure you mentioned. Semiotically, we might read it as a representation of— Editor: Sorry, “semiotically?” Ha! Okay, academics. I just think Bezaan saw his community moving like a solid dark force toward their rituals. Maybe he himself felt the claustrophobia of tradition. This reminds me, in a weird way, of that time… never mind, but point is, it speaks of restraint and of something very close to oppression. Curator: An intriguing interpretation. Whether it stems from social critique or a personal experience, this print captures a significant moment in Bezaan's exploration of figuration in a profoundly affecting manner. Editor: Well said! In fact, after looking again, that compressed, almost airless composition does echo a heart constricted.