Negen vogels op boomtakken c. 1925 - 1935

Here's a drawing of nine birds on tree branches by A. Tinbergen. It’s rendered in black ink. I can imagine the artist hunched over a table in a quiet room, the nib of the pen scratching against the paper as this scene comes into being. I'm struck by the contrast between the stark black ink and the blank white paper. It’s like a stage set, so spare and economical. And then the birds—some perched silently, others singing their hearts out. Maybe Tinbergen was thinking about community, about the way we gather together and communicate, sometimes in harmony, sometimes in discord. Or perhaps the artist just loves birds. I know that feeling when you see something and you just have to paint or draw it, an instinct. What interests me most is the confidence and decisiveness of the mark-making. The lines feel so assured, capturing the essence of each bird with such clarity. It makes me want to pick up a pen and try to capture the world around me in a similar way. It’s a reminder that art can be found in the simplest of things.