Nackte Frau am offenen Fenster 1922

This is Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s, Nackte Frau am offenen Fenster, or Naked Woman at the Open Window, an etching. With etching, you’re dragging a needle across a metal plate, right? So the line is everything. And the line here is, well, everything. There's a raw, immediate quality to the way Kirchner renders this woman and the mountains behind her. It's all exposed, every mark laid bare. Nothing is concealed, and that's what gives it its strength. It’s like seeing the world, not as it is, but as a series of jagged, emotional jolts. I’m especially drawn to the hands resting on the window sill. Look how they're rendered with such angularity, each finger a distinct line, yet they convey a sense of vulnerability, too. The flatness of the planes reminds me a bit of Edvard Munch, but with a nervous energy that feels so specific to Kirchner. You get the sense that art isn’t just about representation for Kirchner, but a conversation with the world around him. Like he’s wrestling it, trying to get a hold of something essential, fleeting, and real.