Head of a Woman 1885

Curator: Ah, this drawing has a profound gravity, doesn’t it? Editor: It does. I am immediately struck by the sitter’s gaze; it holds such…weariness. The high contrast between light and shadow amplifies a sense of hardship, almost starkly. Curator: Indeed. This is Vincent van Gogh’s "Head of a Woman," rendered in charcoal back in 1885. He captured more than just a likeness. There’s something raw and exposed, right? You sense that interior life struggling. Editor: Precisely. I’m drawn to the linear construction, the energetic hatching which gives the figure volume but also imbues it with tension. The geometric construction around her neck is offset nicely with the soft, dark smudges capturing shadow. You see how the artist employed the interplay of dark lines on the neutral page as an active semiotic device, emphasizing depth. Curator: Semi-what? I simply feel…everything, seeing this. What Van Gogh’s hand captured, oh my god... I imagine she knew stories and secrets, weathered many storms… I can almost smell the earth on her. Editor: That very tangible response is, perhaps, engendered by Van Gogh's keen ability to synthesize structure and form, which directs our observation. Notice the headscarf, an array of complex woven textures delineated via nothing more than hatched marks and simple tone variations. Curator: What I adore is the intimacy he establishes. Her presence feels both haunting and completely approachable, which might be from those incredible eyes, large, imploring... You want to sit and listen to all she has to say. Van Gogh gifts us access, however fleeting, to a complete human. Editor: One could argue the very opposite, the way the marks stop short as if not entirely resolved. In fact, this absence only encourages a completion via imagination which, as we've demonstrated, is an active dialogue. Curator: That's true. I am taking more away than I imagined. Editor: And the picture’s language now carries other ideas… interesting.