Suite de sept petits croquis 1766

Editor: Here we have François Philippe Charpentier’s “Suite de sept petits croquis,” dating back to 1766. It’s a print – an etching in ink on paper – housed here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. My first thought? There is a lot of negative space, drawing the eyes directly to the figure with their arm up. It gives a feeling of hopelessness or surrender, yet someone near is paying them no mind. What is your view of it? Curator: You know, it strikes me as almost a scene from a fever dream. Look at the exaggerated gestures and the sketchy quality of the lines. Do you get the sense that Charpentier is less interested in perfect representation and more invested in capturing a fleeting emotion? Think about the Baroque period. Everything was supposed to have such theatrical grandeur! And Charpentier throws it to the wind, with its raw energy and almost uncomfortable honesty. What do you think he's trying to tell us, even after all these centuries? Editor: I definitely agree. It feels a bit unfinished and quite raw, maybe reflecting some inner turmoil. What’s interesting is the storytelling and sense of a moment being frozen in time. Almost cinematic. Curator: Cinematic, that’s a great word. Like a single frame from a longer, lost narrative. Think of the power he hands over to the viewer; we're tasked with filling in the gaps, aren't we? Creating the backstory ourselves. Does it change how you look at it, realizing that the story lives in *you* as much as in the image? Editor: It does! That really gives it a modern feel, even though it's so old. I appreciate you showing me how Charpentier captures emotion. It adds a new dimension for me. Curator: And I think your insight about the negative space leading the eye is spot on; a minimalist choice, adding tension! Art is always this dance of creator, object, and interpreter. Isn't that lovely?