Pauserende harpspeelster Possibly 1861

Editor: Here we have David Bles's "Pauserende harpspeelster," likely from 1861, a pencil drawing on paper currently residing in the Rijksmuseum. I'm immediately struck by its quiet intimacy. It feels like a glimpse into a private moment. What do you see in this piece that maybe I'm missing? Curator: Oh, absolutely! It's more than just a pretty drawing, isn't it? To me, it's like a little poem whispered on paper. The way he captures the weight of her weariness, that subtle slump of her shoulders. And have you noticed how the harp, usually a symbol of music and merriment, is just...there? Silent. It makes me wonder what tunes she’s been playing and what stories she's holding inside. Do you feel that same sense of untold narratives here? Editor: I do, actually. It's like the drawing is pregnant with unspoken words. I assumed that there was some kind of back-story implied in this simple sketch, because she looks melancholy in this drawing. Why include the harp at all if it’s not contributing to the scene beyond adding context? Curator: Exactly! I think that’s part of Bles's brilliance, though. He doesn’t spell it out for us; he invites us to become collaborators in the storytelling. He is presenting the instrument as evidence: this is the instrument she's leaning on for physical and psychological support. Editor: I like that a lot! "Collaborators in the storytelling." That gives me a fresh way to think about art. Thanks! Curator: My pleasure! And you know, sometimes it's in these quiet, seemingly unfinished sketches that an artist reveals their true soul. Something to ponder, eh?