Kalenderblad voor februari 1912 met meerkoeten 1911

Editor: So, this is “Kalenderblad voor februari 1912 met meerkoeten,” or “Calendar Page for February 1912 with Coots,” a woodcut print by Theo van Hoytema from 1911. It’s at the Rijksmuseum. I’m really struck by the composition—the top panel with the coots in a marsh feels so different from the Art Nouveau calendar design below, almost like two different artworks combined. What do you make of this juxtaposition? Curator: Oh, isn't it charming? It makes me think about time—our measured, organized existence laid bare, juxtaposed with the wild abandon of nature. Van Hoytema had such a tender, intimate view of the Dutch landscape, didn’t he? The coots seem engaged in their own dramas, utterly indifferent to our human obsession with marking the days. And the Art Nouveau calendar below… It feels very decorative, almost theatrical, in its presentation of the mundane. Don't you find that fascinating? Editor: I do! The coots really feel like characters; it almost makes you wonder what they're arguing about. I love that you see the calendar as theatrical, though. Do you think Hoytema was making a statement about our relationship with nature by putting them together like this? Curator: It’s certainly food for thought, isn’t it? Perhaps he wanted us to consider how our human constructs—like calendars and timekeeping—both celebrate and simultaneously distance us from the natural world. The placement feels deliberate. What do you think is accomplished by placing the relatively calm marsh view on the top of the work? Editor: Good point. Perhaps putting nature “above” suggests its primary importance to life or reminds viewers of something bigger than themselves and human concerns. Now that I consider it further, Hoytema did have a point to make after all! Thanks. Curator: Exactly. See how a simple calendar page can become such a deep well of contemplation? That's the beauty of art, I think.