Molen op een heuvel aan een waterkant c. 1780 - 1800

Editor: We're looking at "Molen op een heuvel aan een waterkant," or "Mill on a Hill by the Water's Edge," a pencil drawing by Barend Hendrik Thier from around 1780 to 1800. The muted tones give it this ephemeral, dreamlike quality, almost like a memory fading at the edges. What do you see when you look at this, Professor? Curator: Oh, it whispers of simpler times, doesn't it? That lonely windmill, perched atop its hill, gazing over the water... It's more than just a landscape; it’s a poem etched in pencil. I imagine Thier, sketchbook in hand, feeling the breeze, the solitude. Can you almost smell the damp earth and hear the creak of the sails? Editor: Absolutely! It evokes that sort of sensory feeling, despite just being pencil on paper. But the scene feels a little…off, somehow. The composition isn't what I'd expect. Curator: Off? Ah, yes! It has a touch of Romanticism, doesn’t it? That slightly unsettling, almost sublime quality. Thier doesn’t just show us a mill; he hints at something bigger. Perhaps the fleeting nature of existence? Or the awesome, indifferent power of nature slowly encroaching. What do you think that subtle lack of perfection in the lines suggests to you? Editor: Hmm, maybe the impermanence of things. The mill is already slightly dilapidated; those bare trees emphasize the bleakness... There is a certain nostalgia to the whole scene, for sure. Curator: Exactly! The Romantic era grappled with the push-and-pull between the beauty and the terror of the natural world, a contrast beautifully rendered here, I feel. So evocative; it just pulls you in, doesn't it? Editor: It does. I’m now viewing it from a different perspective, considering the emotional charge and also that sense of natural sublime of the artwork. Curator: Wonderful! And now, perhaps we'll never look at windmills quite the same way again, right?