Brief aan Philip Zilcken en Henriette Wilhelmina van Baak Possibly 1926

This letter, written by Rose Imel on a Monday in March of '26, is a real snapshot of a moment in time. The ink, a deep blue, flows across the page in a script that's both elegant and hurried, like a thought trying to keep up with the hand. I love how the words are packed together, some leaning into each other for support, others standing apart, almost breathless. It's like looking at a field of wildflowers, each one distinct, yet part of a larger, wilder thing. There’s a weight to the handwriting here which speaks to the weight of the news she has to share. It sprawls across the page in an uncontainable way. I’m reminded of the letters of Agnes Martin, and her interest in the line as an expression of inward states. Both Martin and Imel remind us that art is a conversation, a continuous loop of call and response across time. Ultimately, what stays with me is the echo of a voice from the past, unfiltered and raw, reminding us that art, in all its forms, is about connection, about bearing witness to the messy, beautiful, heartbreaking business of being human.