Pierrette c. 1899

Curator: Stepping up close to this intriguing print, we find ourselves face to face with Samuel Jessurun de Mesquita’s “Pierrette,” circa 1899, held here at the Rijksmuseum. He created this enigmatic portrait through a woodcut technique, which brings an undeniably arresting starkness to the image. Editor: Oh, my initial impression is all shadows and secrets! The contrast is striking, almost theatrical. She emerges from the background, both present and distant, doesn't she? And those eyes peering out from behind the mask... rather intense. Curator: Indeed. Pierrette, a stock character in the French pantomime tradition, often represents innocence or naivety contrasted against her cunning counterpart, Pierrot. Here, however, Mesquita subverts those tropes by portraying her not as a delicate ingénue, but with a potent gaze, masked by a disquieting anonymity. Consider the sociopolitical landscape of the fin de siècle; we witness widespread anxieties concerning gender and societal roles, and the rise of the "New Woman," who often embraced androgyny and self-possession. Editor: Hmmm, so the mask could be interpreted as both a form of hiding, but also as a kind of defiance, or reclaiming of one’s self? Almost like she’s controlling how much—or how little—she allows us to see. You know, I am sort of reminded of those veiled portraits of the early silent film stars. Curator: Precisely. Also note the economy of line—the bold strokes defining the contours, characteristic of the Symbolist movement’s break from naturalism, emphasizing the emotional, psychological impact over realistic representation. Mesquita gives us an interpretation laden with veiled commentary on female representation and identity. Editor: And yet, the materiality, this rugged woodcut texture adds a human element. The image almost pulses. What is revealed and what's hidden, it's all so… tactile. You know, this piece is making me think about performance, gender, identity; the story is so much more complicated than a black-and-white print might let on. Curator: The layered narrative really stays with you, doesn’t it? Editor: It certainly does. It makes me want to pull her mask off but maybe not at the risk of what I'd be exposed to once the masquerade has ended.