Tafel, langwerpig, met twee bijbladen met driehoekige beëindigingen, sleevormige poten met omhooglopende punt met op de kruising van de verbindingsregel een pyramidevormige verhoging 1920

Curator: What grabs me about this wooden table, crafted around 1920 by Michel de Klerk, is its dramatic tension. The severe geometry feels so poised, doesn't it? Like a tightly wound spring. Editor: It's brooding. Seriously! The heavy, polished wood and angular supports seem to hint at hidden power. It feels almost...ritualistic, as though it should be at the centre of a somber ceremony. Curator: You see that Art Deco influence, right? But it’s de Klerk’s intensely personal spin on the style. I feel like its echoing the kind of expressionistic architecture he also produced. Notice the curious shape of the legs! They are both futuristic and almost primitive at the same time, bearing an arrow form on a pyramid-shaped intersection. Editor: The dark, gleaming wood gives the geometric shapes a solidity, an almost mythical presence. Tables throughout history have represented fellowship and family and connection, but with that arrow like junction and sleevless foot this is more severe, and gives more impression of solidity. It feels more connected with obligation than enjoyment. Curator: I love how it invites conversation across periods. There is so much visual contradiction in the design! A utilitarian object, sculpted into an assertive declaration of form and material, isn't it? Like poetry wrought from raw potential. Editor: Absolutely, the way he unites the function and emotional symbolism transforms something very commonplace into, effectively, a sculpted poem. The lines suggest forward momentum while it’s completely still and solid. The shadow play on its surface reminds you of impermanence, as if even in its heavy design everything changes. It creates that fascinating balance of both permanence and constant adaptation. Curator: Looking closely, it evokes such striking themes—tension, ritual, connection…it has certainly sparked the imagination. Thanks! Editor: Indeed! It feels like an anchor point from which we can glimpse shifting dimensions.