Strook zwarte kant, aan beide zijden geschulpt met bloemmotief, op karton c. 1925

This length of lace, by Gustav Schnitzler, sits on a piece of cardboard, like a specimen pinned in place. It’s a swatch, an idea, a potential—but held, stilled, by the act of presentation. I love that contrast between the delicate, almost gothic floral motif and the plainness of its mounting. Imagine Schnitzler’s hands, carefully arranging the lace, considering how it falls, how it speaks. It’s like he’s coaxing the material to reveal its essence. The black threads, so intricate, remind me of the way a painter builds up layers, each stroke contributing to the whole. There's a conversation happening here. Schnitzler is showing us what lace can be, what it can do. It’s not just trimming, it’s a statement. I see a dance between control and letting go, much like in painting. And it’s a reminder that art is everywhere, even in the most unexpected corners. We’re all constantly riffing off each other, inspiring each other, across time and medium.