Sitzende Frau mit Mandoline (Fragment) 

Editor: Otto Scholderer's sketch, "Sitzende Frau mit Mandoline (Fragment)" housed here at the Städel, feels so delicate, almost ephemeral. I am curious to learn more. The artist only hinted at the subject’s form; what's your interpretation of this incomplete vision? Curator: It strikes me as a visual poem. Scholderer offers just enough information for our minds to complete the image. The visible lines, so full of tenderness, invite us to ponder what’s concealed: the woman's full pose, her gaze, the unplayed music of her mandolin. This incompleteness is not a flaw, but rather an invitation, would you agree? Editor: An invitation, I like that. So, the unfinished quality, achieved through pencil, charcoal, and chalk on paper, becomes part of the piece itself. Did leaving it a fragment elevate it, do you think? Curator: Perhaps. Fragments, in their very nature, evoke a sense of longing, and suggestion, hinting at stories larger than what's readily apparent. Look at the intentionality in the visible strokes. Can you almost sense her fingers poised on the strings? It suggests more than mere depiction, almost longing for connection. Editor: Absolutely! There's an intimacy there. Seeing only the essential lines gives a sense of being allowed into a private moment of creation, rather than seeing a finished piece for public consumption. I might never have noticed that without your insight! Curator: And I was reminded by your comments on intimacy of the importance of unfinished artworks: leaving a question unanswered keeps the viewer engaged. What a delicious collaboration!