Man met opgeheven handen 1879 - 1932

Curator: Look at this intriguing work—a print by Adolf Eduard Herstein, titled "Man met opgeheven handen", or "Man with Raised Hands." The artwork was created sometime between 1879 and 1932, using etching, ink and paper, here on display at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: Whoa, it's so raw. He looks like he's either surrendering or trying to conduct the world! I’m struck by the energy of those lines, the kind of frenzied scratchiness. It’s both vulnerable and powerful, which is quite a combo. Curator: That visual tension is key. The raised hands, a gesture loaded with potential meanings—prayer, supplication, or even protest. Think of Orant figures in early Christian art, hands raised in prayer. It invites that kind of symbolic interpretation, doesn’t it? Editor: Totally. There’s something ancient about him, like he's stepped out of the Old Testament, yet also timeless, like he's us, right now, wrestling with something huge. Curator: Precisely. Herstein captures something elemental. The rapid, almost frantic lines of the etching give a sense of unease, a psychic struggle playing out on the paper. The sparse use of ink, the rough strokes… it avoids prettification, which adds to its raw honesty. It pulls from traditions of portraiture, yet its strength relies on its unfinished appearance. Editor: Exactly! Like the real battle is happening *under* the skin. You know, when I see it, I instantly feel… seen. Which is wild, 'cause I bet everyone feels something a bit different when they look at it. It is simple and relatable but at the same time evokes dramatic events that changed history! Curator: An image of raw emotion captured within the rigidity of etching. A timeless gesture—supplication, resistance, or just reaching for something beyond grasp. Editor: Definitely. For me, it will now remain an important and emotional etching. A simple sketch that manages to feel deeply important.