Hamlet 

Editor: So, here we have a drawing titled "Hamlet" by John Austen, seemingly made with ink. It’s striking how decorative the figure’s clothing is. What’s your read on this piece? Curator: You know, I find her simultaneously ethereal and burdened, don’t you think? Her downcast gaze is heavy, but the ornamental details in her costume create this strange kind of otherworldly beauty, like a Pre-Raphaelite painting channeling Aubrey Beardsley’s linework. Do you get that kind of vibration from this piece? Editor: Yes, I definitely see those echoes! The density of the pattern-work is mesmerizing. Does that suggest anything about its potential historical or cultural background, or is it strictly about aesthetics? Curator: Ah, that’s a delicious question! I think it tells us something about the decadence inherent to the Art Nouveau movement that Austen inhabited. There’s this yearning for escape from the everyday through beauty, an aesthetic cloak to hide… what? What do you think she's hiding behind? Editor: Perhaps grief, or a world-weariness, given the title. The weight of the play itself, maybe? Curator: Precisely. She feels trapped in this elaborate fabrication, almost entombed within that spectacular costume, forever playing her part. Art can reflect our own contrivances, you know? Editor: That gives me a lot to think about. It's amazing how a seemingly straightforward portrait can be so layered with potential meanings. Curator: Indeed! That's the delicious paradox of art, isn’t it? An open door to countless stories... including our own.