Diana op haar strijdwagen, een bed, vazen, een tafel en een schaal op een zuil met sfinxen 1817

Curator: What strikes you first about this drawing, Pietro Ruga’s “Diana op haar strijdwagen, een bed, vazen, een tafel en een schaal op een zuil met sfinxen” from 1817? Editor: The sparseness, the almost diagrammatic quality. It’s a collection of very still objects and, rather comically, Diana sailing through the sky in her chariot. The overall impression is quite cold, reserved, and architectural. Curator: You've keenly observed the contrast! This drawing, rendered in pen, presents us with a panoply of meticulously depicted furnishings juxtaposed with the goddess Diana. There's a real tension between the ethereal and the domestic. Editor: Precisely! Diana seems rather detached from these earthly belongings, as if she's gate-crashing an interior design catalogue. I mean, look at that bed, meticulously detailed; then glimpse Diana, barely sketched in, like an afterthought! What a hoot! Curator: Her somewhat gestural depiction against the near-photorealistic quality of the furniture creates a distinct contrast. And note the sphinxes supporting the pillar; the eye travels upward past these chimerical beings to this shallow dish set up high... like an offering. I love how Ruga composes his image through juxtaposing the ancient with the… well, modern interior. Editor: Indeed, those sphinxes anchoring that rather bland pillar do provide some grounding amidst the soaring goddess. But ultimately it comes across a bit… clinical. There is something deeply unemotional about it. Like an exercise in perspective rather than an invitation into reverie. Curator: Perhaps the lack of shading contributes to that sterile feeling? It has a blueprint aesthetic; like the architectural plans for a dream not yet built. Editor: That is quite a wonderful way to capture the work; that sense of suspended animation, a tableau not quite complete. Well, Ruga has certainly given us ample food for thought. Curator: He has indeed. And isn’t that precisely the point? An invitation to observe, to reflect, and to find one’s own point of entry into the strange inner life of an artist like Pietro Ruga.