Prentbriefkaart aan Philip Zilcken before 1926

Curator: Oh, this old postcard. "Prentbriefkaart aan Philip Zilcken," it's titled. From before 1926, a glimpse into someone’s world via ink on paper. Look at that careful penmanship, historian! Editor: Yes, my first impression is the intimacy of handwriting. It looks like it was written quickly, perhaps in transit? The penmanship speaks of someone quite stylish, a controlled spontaneity. It breathes with a sense of place; I imagine it smelled of ink and travel, or the particular perfume worn by its author! Curator: I see your romanticizing, Artist. It is addressed to Philip Zilcken, probably by Helene van Goethem. She wrote it to him; probably personal messages. Editor: You immediately pull us down from the aesthetic clouds with historical details. But yes, a communication between known entities, part of a grand network that these modest objects built. Curator: I think you are right that it offers this kind of access. A world of personal connection, relying on postal systems and shared social context that seems increasingly distant now. It offers us a physical sense of being-in-the-world back then. Think about the cultural impact, how letters physically build those personal relationships. Editor: True, we miss all those mundane aspects and contexts from social media now. Perhaps we should all return to more ink and handwritings. The beauty of an era where correspondence was not an instantaneous affair. To write and reflect—I find myself returning to old practices as I seek out a mindful approach. Curator: So, what are you taking away from this correspondence? What sticks to your mind? Editor: Well, the postcard makes me think how different were these processes back then from nowadays, now everyone relies on technology, and how interesting it would be if it was an art style. Curator: Indeed. The way public infrastructure – in this case, the postal system – deeply intertwined with intimate personal practices. Editor: Exactly. We're always making those personal connections that give artworks new life for us, I find, aren't we?