Tegning 1997

Jan Groth made this drawing with charcoal, or maybe it's graphite, I'm not sure... it's all black and white here, which I love. I wonder about the artist making this, repeating the same mark over and over. It’s like a language, where each stroke is a letter, a little stutter, and the whole piece is a poem. Did he step back after each stroke, or was he in a frenzy? I imagine he kept going until something clicked. Like a song finally finding its rhythm. I guess he was trying to make something from nothing, conjuring forms out of thin air. I know that feeling well. Maybe he was thinking about Barnett Newman, or maybe he was just trying to get lost in the moment, who knows? We’re all just riffing off each other, artists throughout time, in this big, beautiful conversation. And it’s a drawing that embraces uncertainty, allowing for endless interpretations. What do you see?