Brief aan anoniem 1884 - 1952

Curator: So, tell me, what are your initial thoughts when you see Reinier Willem Petrus de Vries’ "Brief aan anoniem"—a letter in ink on paper from, roughly, the mid-20th century? Editor: Well, it's a letter, so it feels very intimate and personal, even though it's clearly meant to be public now, preserved in this way. It makes me wonder about who the letter was for. I’m struck by the script, its energy. How do you interpret this work, its placement on the page, the language of mark making? Curator: Oh, darling, the letter as an art form is pure potential! De Vries’ hand dances across the page; the letter’s physical presence creates a sense of immediacy that transcends the written word itself. It reminds us of correspondence, but on display in public as the artwork. Does the *content* matter, do you think, or simply the gestural act of *writing*? Editor: That's interesting! It's almost as if the illegibility amplifies the sense of mystery and intimacy, making the viewer long to decipher the coded message within, yet understand that’s for another. But who is “kus antrief” in this narrative and should we even attempt to translate? Curator: Ah, my dear, but perhaps translation isn't always *necessary* to understanding. This isn’t exactly poetry, more like life itself—vulnerable, suggestive. Do the marks *speak* without clear, didactic labels? Is that a function of what art really *is*, perhaps? Editor: I like the notion of it as art because, while it makes it feel so personal and immediate, it makes me wonder, should art always have such clear, readable elements, should one search and question every brush stroke? This changed my initial outlook; thank you. Curator: Indeed! It makes me contemplate how personal the consumption of art can be to others. There is no one answer!