Girl at Her Toilet c. 1810

Curator: Looking at "Girl at Her Toilet," a drawing created around 1810, housed right here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art, what catches your eye first? Editor: There’s an almost melancholic serenity to it, a quiet intimacy. She seems lost in thought, her posture suggesting vulnerability and introspection. The delicate line work gives it an ephemeral quality, as if the moment could vanish any second. Curator: Exactly. This piece, rendered in ink on paper with touches of watercolor and colored pencil, depicts a woman in what appears to be a private moment of grooming. It’s a miniature, emphasizing that sense of intimacy, almost like we are peeking in on something forbidden. Editor: Forbidden, or perhaps simply unseen? What does it tell us about the position of women at that time, this willingness, even eagerness, to capture and display them in this context? Curator: That's a perceptive question. In a society still structured along rigid lines, the female body became a crucial site for asserting social status, beauty ideals, and patriarchal control. But on another reading, aren't there nuances here too? Perhaps a reclamation of personal space? A celebration of routine, in this ritual of self-care? Editor: Perhaps. I’m stuck on her gaze, it does not meet ours, doesn't seek validation, creating an air of mystery around her and what this small painting has been trying to immortalize. I imagine a time where owning one of these was seen as something very private indeed, a peek into the intimate world of someone who couldn't really escape from what society expected of them. Curator: Absolutely. This drawing opens a small door, offering a rare glimpse beyond those norms. By looking closer, we uncover layers that invite empathy and prompt crucial historical conversations. Editor: And in the end, perhaps, it's less about seeing *her* than about catching a reflection of ourselves in her story. It asks: What stories are we compelled to preserve, and who gets to tell them?