Reisverslag 1880s

Editor: So, this is "Reisverslag," or "Travel Report," a drawing from the 1880s by Louis Apol, done with pencil, graphite, and colored pencil on paper. It looks like a sketch from a notebook. There’s something quite raw and immediate about it. It reminds me of the notes a scientist would make on location... What stands out to you in this piece? Curator: It's funny you say that; I feel something of the arctic explorer about it, bundled up against a gale of the artist's own making. You know, Apol was renowned for his winter landscapes. He captured that stark beauty like nobody's business. But here, divorced from that frigid splendor, the underlying…*bones*… of his artistic process are exposed. What do you make of the grid, always peeking out from behind the veil? Is it control? Or surrender? Editor: I think it's probably control, but unsuccessfully deployed? The wildness of the pencil lines is exciting against the strictness of the grid, making the abstraction jump out. I almost see trees, like wispy ghosts, reaching upward... Is this typical of Apol's studies? Curator: In a way, yes. He was meticulous, but he was also deeply in love with atmosphere. Look at how the light seems to emanate from the paper itself, fighting with the grey scribble. It’s as if he's not just depicting a landscape, but trying to evoke a feeling, an inner space *through* the landscape... Perhaps "Travel Report" doesn't just mean a physical journey. It could be an inner one too! Editor: I see that now! The grid *is* overcome by that struggle you described, and somehow that’s very liberating to see, given the name of the artwork. The "report" itself is superseded. Thanks, I never would have thought of it like that on my own. Curator: Absolutely! Art, after all, is just another way to let yourself be pleasantly lost, isn't it?