Zwei Skizzen (Two Sketches) [p. 15] 

Editor: So, this is "Zwei Skizzen," or "Two Sketches," by Max Beckmann, seemingly done with pen and ink on paper. It’s really rough and immediate. What strikes me is the contrast – one sketch feels open and airy, almost a landscape, while the other is this tangled mass of lines, maybe a figure? What do you make of it? Curator: These sketches, raw as they are, offer a potent glimpse into Beckmann's psyche and the turmoil of his time. Consider the period: although undated, Beckmann lived through both World Wars and their aftermath. How might these quick drawings function as personal records of a world in chaos? The top sketch, the seemingly innocuous landscape, could be read as a fragile illusion, the figures mere skeletons against a devastated backdrop. The bottom is arguably more revealing, speaking to confinement and anguish. Do you see that potential interpretation? Editor: That makes me see the landscape very differently! I was reading it too literally, maybe. So the swirling lines below, that sense of confinement… is that connected to the experience of displacement so many artists faced during those times? Curator: Precisely! Beckmann himself was deemed a "degenerate" artist by the Nazis and forced into exile. This sketch, rather than being just a preparatory drawing, becomes a powerful, albeit raw, expression of alienation. How does recognizing this socio-political backdrop change your reading of the composition and mark-making itself? Editor: I see a tension between observation and emotional response in it now. It’s more than just "sketches"; they’re visual cries for help, almost. Thank you, I would never have reached this on my own. Curator: Absolutely, context transforms the act of viewing. Keep that intersectional awareness present and it will give any art historical pursuit that extra, critical edge.