Hippolytus c. 1989

Abraham Bloemaert made this drawing of Hippolytus, with sanguine, a red chalk, with his own hand. I wonder what it was like to be Bloemaert, trying to capture this dramatic moment? There’s a real struggle happening here, the horses almost vibrating with tension, their spindly legs akimbo. They pull and strain, hooves kicking up, with their manes wild, rendered with rapid, searching lines. You can almost feel Bloemaert searching for the right form, thinking about his teachers, and the masters before him. You sense that he, like many artists, is both in control and letting chance play its part. I imagine him stepping back, squinting, and lunging forward again, pulling a line this way, then that. It’s a lovely drawing – unfinished, alive. What will you do with it? How will it inform what you do? This is the ongoing exchange that artists have. It’s a conversation, an inspiration.