Portret van een man leunend op een pilaar 1710 - 1772

Editor: Here we have "Portrait of a Man Leaning on a Pillar," a pencil drawing by Petrus Johannes van Reysschoot, dating roughly from 1710 to 1772. There's a looseness and a vulnerability to this sketch that I find immediately appealing. It feels intimate, like stumbling across a page in the artist's private sketchbook. What draws your eye when you look at it? Curator: Oh, that’s wonderfully put! Intimate, yes, and almost… wistful. For me, it's the implied narrative, the quiet moment captured. Van Reysschoot invites us to speculate – who is this man? Why the pillar? Is it support, a statement of his social standing, or simply a convenient prop? And look at the rendering of the fabrics, all swirling, beckoning strokes. Don’t you feel like reaching out and touching that… velvet or whatever it may be? I think it’s amazing how much he suggests with just a few light pencil marks, a smattering of graphite. It almost has that dreamy, almost-there, quality of some very special unfinished pieces. What story does he conjure for you? Editor: I imagine him as a philosopher or perhaps a playwright, momentarily lost in thought before setting pen to paper. The sketchiness adds to that sense of fleeting inspiration. But why do you call it ‘dreamy’ Curator: I'm being poetic perhaps – blame the flowing hair! But look – does it not almost tremble before your eyes as it hints to appear more tangible? Dreamy implies not quite real. It asks something of us to complete it… So that for me is it's poetry! But you said “vulnerability” – tell me about that! Editor: Well, there’s no sharp outline, no hard edge, right? It feels raw. Which now that you mention it actually feeds into your earlier suggestion of “unsaid”. But I hadn’t thought about it being poetic, thank you for broadening the horizons of the piece! Curator: Thank you for spotting his frailty – for it exists, doesn’t it! Art has ways to make the seer more seen…