Amaryllissen en aronskelk 1918

Editor: This is “Amaryllissen en aronskelk,” or Amaryllis and Calla Lily, created in 1918 by Samuel Jessurun de Mesquita. It’s an ink drawing, a print really, on paper. I find the stark contrast against that moody grey background quite striking. What do you see in this piece that I might be missing? Curator: What I see is a dance, a quiet one, between light and shadow, between what is revealed and what is hidden. Mesquita, in a way, isn't just drawing flowers, he is composing a visual poem. What do you make of the artist’s choice to depict the flowers so close up, almost like portraits? Editor: It definitely intensifies the focus. I guess it forces you to confront their form and texture, but I was expecting, I don't know, maybe more… vibrancy? Curator: Ah, but isn't that the point? He's subverting expectations, nudging us towards something deeper. It seems almost like he's meditating on the quiet beauty found even in simple, natural forms. Do you sense a kind of stillness about them? It reminds me a bit of, like, pressing flowers between pages of a beloved book. Editor: I see what you mean. There’s this strange stillness, yes, a frozen moment. Perhaps he was contemplating mortality or the fleeting nature of beauty in a time of great turmoil during World War I? Curator: Exactly! Art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. A world war raging outside couldn’t help but seep into the art created then. Perhaps these delicate blossoms were an escape, or maybe a quiet lament. That's the magic, isn't it? Each viewer brings their own history to the canvas… or the paper, in this case. Editor: That's beautifully put. I will definitely be viewing this with a fresh perspective from now on. Curator: Wonderful. The point is that it provokes thought and feelings, even many years later!