Flusslandschaft bei Streatley-on-Thames 1872

Editor: Okay, let's talk about Otto Scholderer's "Flusslandschaft bei Streatley-on-Thames," or "River Landscape near Streatley-on-Thames." It’s a pencil drawing from 1872, now hanging here at the Städel Museum. It strikes me as incredibly serene, almost dreamlike with its soft focus. What do you see in it? Curator: It whispers of a simpler time, doesn’t it? I’m drawn to the way Scholderer captures the essence of the English countryside, using just pencil strokes to create such depth. See how the light filters through the reeds in the foreground, almost dancing on the water? It’s like a half-remembered melody played on the wind. Makes me think, what sounds might one have heard by this river in 1872? Was there the murmur of voices from the village nearby, or perhaps just the lapping of water against the pilings of that tiny dock? Editor: It really does feel immersive. Did this "Realism" movement often focus on landscapes, and try to include a bit of "Romanticism"? Curator: Absolutely. Remember, realism wasn't just about depicting the world as it *is,* but as it *feels.* It's the truth filtered through an emotional lens, which Romanticism could provide, right? Like capturing a moment of quiet contemplation, or maybe even a hint of melancholy that whispers, “this too shall pass.” Think of Constable and his skies, where it's not just about documenting cloud formations, but about expressing the sublime power of nature, just with gentle touches! Editor: So it’s less about perfect replication and more about evoking a mood, and allowing that mood to shift over time. Curator: Precisely. And it’s fascinating to consider how much of our perception is colored by our own experiences. Do you think someone viewing this drawing a century ago would have the same emotional response as we do today? Or would they perhaps focus more on its function as a record of a specific place and time? It also prompts thinking about one's experiences: for me, there are summer evenings in childhood near my grand-parents when seeing that precise image near a small lake in my hometown. Editor: It really gives new insights to my romantic perception. Curator: And that's the magic of art, isn't it?