Trillevip 1917

Editor: This is Niels Skovgaard's 1917 pen and ink drawing, "Trillevip." It has an unsettling stillness to it. A woman stands on one side, a soldier with a rifle on the other, separated by dense trees. What symbols or hidden meanings do you see embedded within this stark landscape? Curator: It’s the separation, isn't it? The woman's plain dress and the soldier's uniform—aren't these powerful visual signifiers of societal roles during wartime? The forest acts as a kind of intermediary space. Editor: Yes, their clothes set them apart but the forest does too. Curator: The forest itself is dense and potentially dangerous, laden with cultural meanings throughout time, from fairy tales to wartime hideouts. And Skovgaard made this during the First World War. The forest is not just a natural setting. Look at the marks of the pen—a frenetic energy vibrates within the stillness. Does this make you think of something? Editor: Yes, now I'm recalling that in many stories the forest marks a liminal space. But I’m still struck by their separation. Could it represent the emotional distance that the war put between people, maybe between those at home and soldiers fighting abroad? Curator: Precisely. Think of the recurring symbols throughout art history: the divided canvas, the averted gaze, all hinting at disconnection. It is not a stretch to apply this concept here. The work becomes a quiet, powerful statement about the psychological landscape of war, where the familiar is now strange. Editor: Seeing the figures in that way, as symbols, shifts the emotional impact of the drawing significantly. Curator: Exactly. The ink itself becomes more than just a medium, becoming almost like memory made visible on the page, resonating across time.