Yard with stairs 

Curator: So, we're looking at Anton Burger's "Yard with Stairs," a graphite, ink, and pencil drawing on paper, here at the Städel Museum. What strikes you first? Editor: That it feels like a memory! Like sifting through faded photographs found in an attic. Hazy, impressionistic, peaceful. Almost melancholic. Curator: It’s interesting you say that. Burger was very much working within a particular moment of German art that emphasized realism. This piece feels like a direct observation of everyday life, far from grand historical narratives. Editor: "Everyday life," sure, but elevated. I love the way the light and shadow play together. It gives the scene a depth and almost a secret life—especially around the foliage and those weathered steps. It’s very evocative. Makes me want to fill in the gaps. Curator: And the lack of sharp details? It perhaps encourages the viewer to project their own experience, their own memories, onto the scene. This resonates with broader debates about representation in art. Whose stories were being told, and how? Was the academic style the only acceptable form? Editor: Well, art can be academic and still pulse with emotion, but I know what you mean. This…it's accessible. Like you’re invited into a quiet corner. Curator: And remember, the museum space itself plays a role in that accessibility. A work like this, hung in a gallery like this one, gains a certain authority, a validation of its subject matter. What was considered worthy of preservation? Who made those decisions, and what biases did they hold? Editor: Right, which means the artist probably didn't see this corner as art worthy... Perhaps it was just part of a larger series that focused more on the building as an architectural ensemble. So fascinating, seeing what speaks to whom across time. Curator: Precisely. I find myself reflecting on the social landscape surrounding Burger when this work was made. It brings this work to life, breathing space into its textures and gentle rendering. Editor: Absolutely. Looking closer now, it reminds me to embrace a little imperfect charm of the present day. There is beauty everywhere around.