Hermia's flower tendril c. 1867 - 1868

Editor: This is Paul Konewka's "Hermia's flower tendril", a pencil drawing on paper from around 1867 or '68, now at the Städel Museum. It feels quite spontaneous, almost like a doodle. It’s delicate, but there’s a tension in those swirling lines. What captures your attention in this piece? Curator: Well, immediately I'm drawn to the contrast. Look how he uses a few very confident lines, barely there, juxtaposed against these almost chaotic, scribbled areas. It suggests something both ethereal and earthy, doesn't it? Editor: I see that. The light and dark, wispy versus dense. Curator: Exactly! It's a beautiful dance, a visual poem, really. Do you get a sense of the floral or organic? Does that reading really take shape, for you? Or is the botanical only implied by the title, perhaps? Editor: I can see how it suggests a tendril. The lines definitely curve and reach, there’s movement. Curator: For me, the strength is in the abstraction. It's more about the feeling of growth and life, the potential energy, rather than a literal representation. It allows your imagination to fill in the gaps, doesn’t it? Editor: Yes, definitely! It leaves so much room for interpretation. Curator: And perhaps that's the genius of Konewka. He offers us a glimpse, a suggestion, and then trusts us to complete the picture, to become collaborators in his vision. Editor: That’s a perspective I hadn’t considered, that collaborative aspect! It makes the drawing feel much more alive. Curator: Precisely. And it shows how much even the simplest sketch can contain such depth and complexity. Editor: I’ll definitely look at sketches differently from now on. Thanks!