Schetsboek met 75 bladen 1890 - 1946

Curator: Before us is “Sketchbook with 75 leaves,” a collection dating from 1890 to 1946, attributed to Cornelis Vreedenburgh. It’s held here at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: Hmm, feels quiet. The cover has a wonderful patina, almost ghostly, as though it has absorbed decades of thoughts and impressions. I can't help but imagine the journeys it took alongside the artist, its pages brimming with the hustle and bustle of landscapes and city life now stilled. Curator: Precisely. As an object, the sketchbook stands as a testament to artistic practice, materiality, and the intersection of medium and memory. The cover, rendered in what appears to be coarse cloth, bears stains and marks, all adding layers to the work's own narrative. It speaks volumes. Editor: It does, doesn’t it? Think about the rough weave, the subtle gradations of discoloration suggesting an environment almost leathery, a bit melancholic perhaps, but profoundly personal. You can imagine him carrying it, stuffing it in his bag, its surface recording every place it went. The slightly tarnished look invites reflection—I almost want to open it myself. Curator: An urge fully in line with the intentionality of such objects; in contrast to standalone artworks, sketchbooks invite tactile intimacy with artmaking, its inherently serial form lending itself to narrative and a process-based approach. A personal peek into the journey from idea to creation, the space where meaning arises. Editor: Exactly, the journey. That’s it. Each smudge and every worn patch act like timestamps. The formal analysis of the physical thing only reinforces this emotional aspect for me. Each stain acts as an unconscious edit, doesn’t it? And seeing all this allows me as a viewer to insert myself more organically in Vreedenburgh's creative process. Curator: Ultimately, “Sketchbook with 75 leaves” foregrounds a rich nexus of formal elements: composition, color, and materiality, through the lens of lived experience. Editor: And for me, it echoes not just artistic processes, but speaks volumes on how stories get shaped, both visibly and emotionally, by time itself. That simple notebook contains endless potential.