Twee artiesten op een paard 1891 - 1941

Curator: Here in gallery seven at the Rijksmuseum we have Leo Gestel’s “Two Artists on a Horse.” It’s rendered in pencil and charcoal on paper and thought to have been created sometime between 1891 and 1941. Editor: What a wisp of a thing! Ethereal almost. It reminds me of sketches half-remembered from a dream—you know, the kind that vanishes as soon as you wake up. Curator: Gestel's focus seems to be less on meticulous detail and more on capturing the dynamism and form through line and shadow. Note the interplay between the solidity suggested by the charcoal shading, versus the sketchier, almost frantic lines. Editor: Definitely feels raw, doesn't it? Like he’s chasing after a fleeting vision. Those shadowy figures almost dissolve into the background. Do you think the ambiguity is intentional? The lack of a firm grounding in realism gives the scene a sort of haunted quality, like they're riding through a forgotten memory. Curator: The use of line is indeed quite striking here. The repeated lines build form, as do the tonal gradations produced by charcoal, allowing Gestel to define space. We are very aware that it’s a drawing, rather than an attempt to render a perfect likeness. Editor: Perhaps he was more interested in the act of creation itself, in the pure expression of line and shadow, rather than photographic accuracy? The roughness, the visible process, they give it authenticity. It's a feeling of spontaneity and discovery! Curator: Precisely! Through such deliberate and highly sophisticated employment of limited means, he implies so much about weight, form, light… Editor: It’s interesting how he has captured such a playful image using rather dark tones. Well, for me, Gestel’s captured that exhilarating feeling when a burst of inspiration strikes. Makes you want to pick up a pencil! Curator: A truly engaging work to study, I find something new to consider each time. Editor: Me too! Art like this reminds us not to overthink things, to trust our instincts.