An apostle resting his head on his right hand and holding a book, in an oval frame, from Christ, the Virgin, and Thirteen Apostles 1600 - 1640

Curator: This intriguing image is called "An apostle resting his head on his right hand and holding a book," part of a larger series titled "Christ, the Virgin, and Thirteen Apostles." We believe it dates from between 1600 and 1640, though the artist remains anonymous. It's an etching done in ink, currently residing here at The Met. What are your initial thoughts? Editor: Melancholy. That's the immediate feeling. There's such weariness etched, quite literally, into the apostle's face. It makes you wonder about the burden of faith. The looping lines making up his hair and beard—it's like captured energy. Curator: Precisely! That contemplative pose, the hand supporting his head – it's a classical trope signifying deep thought or even sorrow. And the book he clutches… Knowledge can be a heavy weight. Editor: Absolutely. And consider the oval frame. It’s isolating, isn’t it? Focusing our attention solely on him. I wonder, who was this apostle intended to be? Each one carries such a specific weight, especially within art of this era. Curator: Ah, a good question. Given the lack of identifying symbols, we can only speculate. Perhaps this anonymity is deliberate. He could represent any believer grappling with faith's complexities. I think the print, as a multiple, might make that case more successfully. Editor: It’s a democratisation of contemplation, isn’t it? The ability to reproduce and share this image of deep reflection… It allows more people to sit with their doubts, their devotion. And the simplicity of the ink adds to the power—reducing the spiritual to simple, almost primal lines. Curator: I concur. It's this tension between the delicate etching and the weighty subject that I find so captivating. The artist uses a relatively light and easily portable medium to convey deep emotional and intellectual heft. Editor: I suppose it's a beautiful reminder that faith, like art, is both personal and universal. Boundless, yet framed. I love how such minimal ink can produce such rich visual effect. Curator: Agreed. The work invites us to our own moments of introspection, using art and faith as conduits.