Design for a Cup(?) with a Man Putting up a Net 1800 - 1900

Editor: So, this is "Design for a Cup(?) with a Man Putting up a Net," likely from the 1800s. It's a pen, pencil, and ink drawing on paper by an anonymous artist, held here at the Met. I find it oddly charming, almost like a fleeting dream. What do you see in this piece that I might be missing? Curator: A fleeting dream is perfect. It does have that quality. For me, it evokes the whimsicality of a half-remembered story, doesn’t it? Notice the fan shape, perhaps it *was* destined for a cup. The figures are so delicately rendered, caught mid-action. It begs the question, doesn’t it: what's *really* going on here? It feels very stage-like to me. Almost theatrical! Do you get that? Editor: Yes! I see the stage-like quality now. It feels like we've stumbled upon a scene from a play where the narrative is just out of reach. Why do you think the artist chose to leave it so… unresolved? Curator: Perhaps the artist reveled in ambiguity! Or, perhaps this sketch was merely a jumping-off point. The charm, I think, comes from the open invitation to invent a backstory. Look at the architecture—rough and almost gothic. And the ox! Just nonchalantly hanging out. Makes you wonder if it's about to start singing. Or maybe *that's* just me. Editor: Haha! A singing ox… now that's a production I'd pay to see! So much narrative potential in such a small space. It's wonderful. Curator: Precisely. Art isn’t always about answers. Sometimes it’s the question that truly captivates. I'll ponder singing livestock from now on; that much is sure. Thanks for pointing that out.