En rytter set skråt bagfra ridende ind mod vidtstrakt land-skab 1847

Editor: So, here we have Johan Thomas Lundbye's 1847 ink drawing, "A Rider Seen Diagonally From Behind Riding Towards a Wide Landscape." It feels quite melancholic, almost lonely, with that lone figure heading towards such a vast, empty space. What strikes you about it? Curator: Oh, the pull of the infinite, eh? I get that. It's funny, looking at this little drawing is like peering into Lundbye’s soul – all romantic yearning and the whisper of possibility. You know, I sometimes think those romantic painters were just trying to capture a feeling we all get: standing on the edge of something, knowing the world is enormous, and feeling intensely, personally, part of it all. Tell me, what do you make of the rider being seen from behind? Editor: Hmm, it adds to that sense of mystery, doesn't it? Like we’re invited on a journey without knowing the destination, or even who this person *is*. Is he a soldier? A messenger? And the landscape itself feels less like a place, more like… an idea? Curator: Precisely! It is Denmark itself, or at least Lundbye's intensely personal, idealized vision of it. Those simple lines sketching out the landscape hint at the bigness of nature, right? Makes you wonder if the rider is off to war, off to the sea, or simply towards a horizon, but isn't that really all the same? The sea may swallow your tears and the land absorb your soul, just maybe, they won't forget you were there. Editor: I never thought about it like that, about him embedding that landscape as almost a personal mirror, thanks! Curator: Oh, I am more than pleased if the personal reflections got to your own heart! You see now how we've found beauty not just on the paper, but inside us as well? Now you know that your reflections is what builds beauty!