Gezicht op kasteel van Brucoli, ‘La Bruca’ 1778

Curator: It strikes me as almost… sepia-toned, despite the presence of water and sky. A very subtle wash, and something about the way the fortress sits makes it look almost like a stage set. Editor: Indeed. We're looking at "Gezicht op kasteel van Brucoli, \u2018La Bruca\u2019," or "View of the castle of Brucoli," by Louis Ducros, a watercolor and charcoal drawing from 1778. It resides here at the Rijksmuseum. It does echo some conventions of neoclassicism while observing from the style of landscape a moment frozen. Curator: Yes, that stage-set feeling! The clarity of the light, and the almost… theatrical backdrop of the sky. Neoclassicism trying its hand outdoors. Editor: Precisely. Consider how Ducros carefully controls the color palette to create a sense of distance and atmosphere. See the tonal variation between the brown in the immediate bank that sustains the composition in the foreground and the blue on the hazy mountains beyond the water horizon. The artist creates pictorial depth, mimicking, indeed, a play on atmospheric perspective. Curator: And the fortress itself? Solid, stoic almost—but rendered in this incredibly delicate wash of watercolor, a softness to such formidable architecture. Is it about man against nature, or about nature softening man's constructs? Editor: A relevant question indeed! Think, though, about the very material of watercolour on paper. Ducros is making statements about the transient nature of seeing and of preserving place via what medium. There is inherent contrast between monument and process— between seeing, drawing and recalling this Italian scene. There's no absolute conclusion, just layered complexities between intention and artwork! Curator: So well put. In the end, then, maybe it is this beautiful, almost melancholic, tension itself. We feel its push-pull—between form and emotion. Editor: Perhaps. And between our expectations as modern viewers and Ducros' artistic project of documenting this view for the eyes of the late 18th-century beholder.