Heuvellandschap met bomen 1913

Editor: So, this is *Heuvellandschap met bomen*—Hill Landscape with Trees—by Lodewijk Schelfhout, a woodcut made in 1913. It's at the Rijksmuseum. I'm immediately struck by the almost oppressive feeling of the dark, dense trees. What do you see in this piece that maybe I'm missing? Curator: Oppressive, you say? Interesting! For me, it’s more like stepping into a hushed sanctuary, a secret grove teeming with quiet life. The lines, though stark, are so full of movement, like leaves whispering secrets in the wind. Don’t you feel a certain dynamism, despite the limited palette? Perhaps Schelfhout wanted us to sense the unseen forces at play in nature, rather than just depicting what we readily see. Editor: I get that sense of movement now that you mention it, but that darkness still gets to me. Is it just the technique – the stark contrast of the woodcut – or is there something else contributing to that feeling? Curator: Could be a bit of both, really! Remember, this was 1913…a time of great social and political tension brewing right before the First World War. Maybe this darkness mirrors the anxieties of the era. Or, perhaps Schelfhout was simply drawn to the drama of chiaroscuro, that interplay of light and shadow that gives the image such depth. What do you think? Does knowing the date change your interpretation? Editor: It does actually! Knowing it was created just before World War I gives it a completely different layer, a kind of foreboding that wasn’t there before. I still find it a little gloomy, but now I appreciate the underlying sense of anticipation or uncertainty. Curator: Exactly! It's amazing how historical context can open up new perspectives, isn't it? For me, each look at this print now is like peering into a pivotal moment. It offers us a window into the soul, and a glimpse into an era teetering on the edge of monumental change. Editor: Definitely something to ponder, next time I stroll into my local green space!