Brief aan Philip Zilcken before 1899

Editor: Here we have Willem Witsen's "Brief aan Philip Zilcken," created before 1899, using pen and ink on paper. It’s an intimate glimpse, like stumbling upon a private correspondence. What's your impression of its raw, almost unfinished, quality? Curator: That unfinished quality is precisely its charm, isn’t it? I think Witsen offers us a peek behind the curtain of formal artistry. It’s a sketchbook moment, a brain dump of sorts, but directed toward someone specific. You see the commercial letterhead, but then it descends into intimacy, right? "Amice..." starting the message is so evocative. Editor: It definitely feels more personal than professional. I can barely make out parts of the letter itself! What sense of Witsen can we glean through such a fragmented presentation? Curator: Ah, you ask the golden question. I’d say this: he seems intensely engaged, spontaneous. It reminds me of how quick text messages are today, just an immediate download of thought. Though, instead of thumbs typing on glass, it’s a nib dancing across paper. Do you notice how the handwriting sort of reveals his emotions as he writes? Editor: I hadn’t considered that! Now that you mention it, some parts seem rushed, other parts careful and considered. It makes me think about the act of physically writing and how it translates the mood or emphasis to a physical form. Curator: Exactly! We're observing that connection to a man pouring out his heart. What Witsen thought essential enough to send, across Amsterdam and wherever that letter ended up going, offers us so much. Every scrawl, every barely legible word contributes to the feel. Editor: That feeling of observing a thought captured on paper really stayed with me. Thanks to your observations, I see this more like an artist sharing a conversation from across time. Curator: And isn’t that the magic of art? That connection across time? It makes me eager to rummage through my own notebooks when I return home!