Landschap, mogelijk een duinlandschap 1886 - 1923

George Hendrik Breitner made this drawing, possibly a dunescape, using graphite on paper. It's this scribbly, scrawly, tentative thing, right? You can tell Breitner was working fast, trying to catch something fleeting before it disappeared. I imagine him standing there, charcoal in hand, squinting at the light as the wind whips around him. The marks are so immediate, like little bursts of energy transferred directly from his eye to his hand to the page. Notice the thick, dark lines that define the main form, contrasted with the lighter, sketchier marks that suggest the surrounding landscape. It’s as if he's feeling his way through the scene, not quite sure what he's looking at until it appears through the accumulation of lines. It reminds me of some of Philip Guston's late drawings—that same sense of searching, of not quite knowing, but trusting the process. And that's what drawing is, right? A way of thinking through making, a conversation between the artist and the world. It's a way to explore ambiguity, embrace uncertainty, and discover new possibilities.