Mountain near Geroldstein 

Editor: We are looking at a drawing called "Mountain near Geroldstein," a pencil sketch now hanging at the Städel Museum. There's a delicate quality to it. The mountain almost looks like a sleeping giant. What strikes you about this piece? Curator: A sleeping giant – that’s beautifully put! It breathes a certain peace, doesn't it? A stillness that invites reflection, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps Peter Becker was searching for some quiet in a world that often seemed determined to be anything but. He captured something of the eternal. What is particularly arresting is the layered quality of the rock formations – almost as if we're witnessing geologic time itself. Does that resonate with you? Editor: It does! It also feels like there's a contrast between the monumentality of the mountain and the fragile simplicity of the drawing itself. It's a bit dreamlike. Curator: Absolutely. Pencil, the humblest of tools, wielded to capture something so imposing. And in its dreamlike quality, don't you sense a touch of Romanticism creeping in, a desire to commune with nature on a deeply personal level? Editor: Yes, it's like he’s not just depicting the mountain but almost… feeling it. Curator: Precisely! It makes me wonder about Becker, doesn't it? About his state of mind, his longings… Editor: I guess I never really considered that a landscape drawing could tell you so much more than just what a place looks like. Curator: Art has that sly way of holding up a mirror to ourselves, doesn't it? Editor: Definitely gives me something to think about on my walk home. Thanks for that! Curator: My pleasure! And perhaps, a newfound appreciation for the quiet power of a pencil.