Vossen vallen boerderijdieren aan 1602

Curator: Isn’t it funny how violence can be so beautiful? This print, “Foxes Attacking Farm Animals,” dates back to 1602 and it's by Antonio Tempesta. I find it utterly gorgeous, a meticulously crafted etching showcasing baroque drama, currently residing here at the Rijksmuseum. What strikes you first about it? Editor: Well, beyond the raw predation on display? The landscape teeters between idyllic and ominous. There’s a tension present, even with the pastoral setting, like a stage set for a primal drama where survival is the only imperative. Curator: Absolutely, the details! The stark contrast of light and shadow, each strand of fur on the battling animals—it pulls you right into the heart of their desperate struggle. I mean, you almost feel like you're witnessing something forbidden. Editor: Forbidden because of its proximity to daily life, perhaps. This etching lays bare the cycle of exploitation inherent in our relationship with other animals, the violence that's often veiled behind the veneer of the farm and production. The foxes attacking the cattle isn’t really an anomaly, is it? Curator: A truth elegantly brutal, I like that! You see that group of people on the hill with all of those cows? Is that who all this violence benefits? Also, the lines are incredible. Each stroke breathes life into the scene and it also evokes such raw, visceral feelings. It really stays with you. Editor: And the size… the intimacy of an etching heightens that tension, forcing a close confrontation with a spectacle most would prefer not to scrutinize. We consume violence, both literally and figuratively, often disconnected from the lived experience of others. Art, like this piece, has the ability to really pull you back into something uncomfortable. Curator: A miniature world brimming with the stark realities of life. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it, about where we draw the lines? It is beautiful. Editor: Indeed. It makes you ponder the intricate webs of survival and exploitation that shape our world and what roles we unconsciously inhabit. A mirror, perhaps, reflecting both our capacity for cruelty and the brutal necessities of existence.