Zelfportret, mei 1942 1942 - 1945

Editor: Here we have "Zelfportret, mei 1942" or "Self-Portrait, May 1942," a pencil drawing by Cor van Teeseling, housed right here at the Rijksmuseum. It's haunting, isn’t it? So simple, yet… penetrating. What do you see when you look at it? Curator: Haunting is the perfect word. The eyes seem to be peering right through you, don’t they? This was created during a very dark time in history. Van Teeseling's a rather overlooked artist, if you ask me. He captures a weariness, wouldn’t you say? And the very tight cropping… do you think that intensifies that feeling? Editor: Absolutely! It feels claustrophobic, almost. Like he's trapped, not just on the page, but perhaps in his own mind, or even… within the era itself? Curator: Precisely! I feel as if that careful detailing in his hair, then contrasted with the rather… I wouldn’t quite say unfinished, but softer strokes of his face speak of his hidden persona. So the face feels as if it is blurred because that inner spirit, or his future perhaps is undefined, or smudged over… almost, do you catch what I am saying? The stark realism battles an ephemeral, deeply felt something that resists resolution. The gaze, especially, demands attention; so strong as to make you, the viewer, feel the artist’s reality. What do you make of the slight smile? Editor: Hmmm…It could be defiance? Or maybe just a flicker of hope in the middle of everything. Perhaps? I am probably overreaching! Curator: Not at all. Hope, defiance, resignation – I see them all swirling there. Art isn't about concrete answers. The fact that we’re even having this discussion proves its power, right? Editor: I hadn't thought of it that way, but it makes total sense. So much more depth here than I initially saw. Thank you! Curator: My pleasure. And thanks for sparking my imagination this afternoon, too. I must try and stop thinking about it!