De doorgebroken Sint-Antoniesdijk bij Jaap Hannes, 1651 1651

Editor: So, this is Roelant Roghman’s "De doorgebroken Sint-Antoniesdijk bij Jaap Hannes, 1651", an etching made with ink. Looking at this, the scene just feels… desolate, almost post-apocalyptic. What do you see in this piece, beyond the obvious landscape? Curator: Desolate is a fantastic observation. The print captures not just a landscape, but a moment of crisis. Notice how the damaged dike dominates the scene, a stark testament to nature’s power. Roghman wasn't just depicting the broken dike; he was etching a portrait of human vulnerability. It reminds me of those childhood moments where you realize you’re utterly powerless against…say, an incoming wave. Have you ever felt that way looking at this etching? Editor: I do, now that you mention it! But what about the little figures on the right? They seem so…tiny, almost insignificant against the scale of the disaster. Curator: Precisely! Roghman deliberately uses scale to amplify the impact of the flood. The people are dwarfed, highlighting our collective helplessness. And that light, isn't it curious? It illuminates the devastation but also hints at a resilience, the will to rebuild. Did you know the Dutch were master of landscape etchings? Their almost photographic approach captured all that. Editor: That makes a lot of sense. So it's not just about the physical damage but also a comment on human resilience in the face of overwhelming odds? Curator: Exactly! Art, like life, is rarely just one thing. The etching becomes a quiet contemplation on nature, loss, and the enduring spirit. Editor: I never would've picked that up on my own. Thanks! Curator: You got me thinking too! These little glimpses into other people’s feelings toward our shared human history, are really a big part of why art is great.