The Last King 1902

Alfred Kubin made this drawing, with ink on paper, and I can only imagine him hunched over, squinting in the dark. The grey shading, layered and hazy, gives it a mysterious quality. And then, BAM! The King. He is the only source of light in a world of shadows. I can imagine Kubin’s mark-making almost like a nervous tic, hatching and cross-hatching in swift, obsessive movements across the page. There’s something so urgent about his touch, like he’s trying to capture a fleeting vision or a half-remembered nightmare. This drawing speaks of a world in decay, a world on the brink of collapse. But, who knows, maybe it’s just a bad dream? I have them all the time.