Twee lopende paarden 1891 - 1941

Curator: So here we have "Twee lopende paarden"—"Two Running Horses"—a pencil drawing from the period 1891 to 1941, by Leo Gestel. It resides here at the Rijksmuseum. What jumps out at you? Editor: Immediately, it's the contrast between the solidity of the main horse and the ghostliness of the one behind. I find myself drawn to the materiality. Just a simple pencil, yet look at the implied movement and muscle! What do you think about the artist's hand at play here? Curator: There's an urgency to it, almost as if he’s trying to capture a fleeting thought. The legs sketched loosely, as if barely tethered to reality. Perhaps it’s a dream fragment; or maybe Gestel aimed to convey the animal’s restless energy... the soul of the horse. Editor: Gestel must have had access to horses. One can't sketch those details without observing real anatomy. I wonder about the role of equestrian culture at that time—how the ownership and breeding of horses spoke to class and status. Pencil, readily available. Paper, manufactured en masse... this art is tied up in the rise of industry itself. Curator: That's interesting. I wonder, though—does tying it *only* to material access limit its expressive potential? I see longing. A desire to understand something primal in himself reflected in these magnificent creatures. Maybe that's projection on my part! Editor: I’d push back and suggest acknowledging how affordable materials opened up new forms of artistic practice! Who gets to draw, who *can* afford to express themselves becomes a key question. And seeing the layers in a simple piece makes one wonder about revision... erasure... is that horse running from something? Or towards it? Curator: Mmm, there's such openness here! It gives one space to ponder not only art history, but the mysteries we find within. A lovely conversation, thank you. Editor: Yes, it is a stark reminder how even the simplest tools reflect broader forces at play, so it gives one something to mull.