Takken op een heuvel 1848 - 1888

Curator: Anton Mauve's pencil drawing, "Takken op een heuvel," which translates to "Branches on a Hill," created sometime between 1848 and 1888. Editor: My first impression? A kind of melancholy hush. It's so minimal, just the whisper of lines against the paper. And those faded spots - they feel almost like ghostly memories superimposed. Curator: Right? The pencil strokes are incredibly economical. But notice how he uses hatching to give the impression of mass and texture in those branches? Mauve, remember, was connected to the Hague School. Editor: Which emphasized realism... But this seems almost… Impressionistic? I'm looking at the physical act, the pressure of pencil to paper. What pencils were available, what paper was used, where he would sit outside and make this sketch? Curator: True. And look closer—see the accidental marks, almost stains, on the paper? I almost wonder if this wasn't made outside; there is something wonderfully ephemeral in that fact! Editor: This drawing prompts so many questions. Was the paper locally sourced? Was it created out of material constraints, given a sketch is inherently cheap, affordable, accessible, what other drawings of landscapes could the material provide Mauve for study? Curator: Those lines… they capture something transient. That precise moment that branches littered a field as sunlight streamed through. Maybe that is what Mauve's wanted. It is lovely, regardless, that something so intimate is preserved at the Rijksmuseum! Editor: I guess you're right, it just reminds you that sometimes it is simple labor that reveals the larger workings. That a person needed to sit with time and watch a natural element to create it, one which many could and still can overlook every day. Curator: In a way, it elevates those "overlooked" moments. Maybe art really can change our perceptions. Editor: So in the end it comes down to a combination of perception, presentation, and price, eh?