Gevels aan de noordzijde van het het Spui te Amsterdam 1886 - 1903

Editor: We're looking at "Facades on the North Side of the Spui in Amsterdam," a charcoal drawing by George Hendrik Breitner, likely created between 1886 and 1903. It's currently held at the Rijksmuseum. I'm struck by how raw and immediate it feels, like a fleeting impression captured in a hurry. What stands out to you? Curator: It's a sketch, isn't it? I see Breitner, ever the flâneur, pencil in hand, rapidly trying to grab the soul of the Spui before it vanishes. Do you get that sense of a moment, almost missed? Amsterdam breathes in his work, doesn't it? The light, the air – it's not about precision, but a feeling. What kind of stories do you think unfolded behind those facades, back then? Editor: I like the idea of the artist capturing the soul of the city! There's definitely an elusive quality to the lines, as if the buildings are in constant motion, blurring and reforming. The lower, darker, almost frantic strokes of the charcoal almost suggest like something sinister or solemn. Curator: Indeed. It's as though Breitner is digging for some form of "truth." Was that mood real or invented, do you think? What do you sense? The buildings appear permanent, immutable, yet he portrays them with such restless energy, it really gives the work some intrigue. The impressionists really gave licence to feel rather than depict. What's that freedom feel like to you? Editor: The freedom… it's exciting! Almost like I could pick up the charcoal myself and add to the story. I can better appreciate how Impressionism tried to convey the feeling of the subject rather than focus on details. Curator: Exactly. We are not merely observing a drawing; we're experiencing a feeling, as it happens. Art, for me, should always trigger an unbidden emotion – a connection of sorts to what we understand about ourselves, through what is around us. The urban soul that breathes through Breitner feels all the more resonant for me now.