Kop van een man 1917 - 1918

Curator: This portrait...it's a study in intensity, wouldn’t you say? The eyes bore right through you. Editor: He does look rather stern, doesn't he? Like he’s judging my entire outfit. What exactly are we looking at? Curator: This is “Head of a Man” – “Kop van een man”– from around 1917-1918. It’s by Richard Nicolaüs Roland Holst, residing here at the Rijksmuseum. A powerful pencil drawing. You feel every line, every groove etched into his face. Editor: The texture is intriguing, all that cross-hatching creating planes, geometric shapes almost. Look at the work and the layers involved; the artist knew exactly how the medium and paper work to build form. Curator: Absolutely, there's a modernism in the geometry, pushing the piece toward expressionism. It feels so raw, immediate, like a glimpse into the artist's soul – Roland Holst’s soul to be precise, as I believe it’s a self-portrait. The turmoil of the era etched into his own face. Editor: War time is hardly easy for pencil production. Graphite pencils may not seem revolutionary but look at what they enabled and how democratized portraiture became, with art supplies becoming readily available to working-class artists who could self-publish and participate in mass media via this readily accessible medium. Curator: He sees so much. And what price those insights. Do you not find him unsettling and vulnerable? There's something melancholic about that downturned gaze, a silent poem of weariness. Editor: Weariness certainly. Also precision. These are quite simple tools in the hand, the humble pencil and a readily sourced paper. These drawings allowed those outside privileged circles to circulate their likeness and thoughts publicly. I respect the means of production and the message. Curator: To take something so simple and create a window into such complex depths of emotion…that's the beauty of art. Editor: Indeed. It reminds us of how access and technique converge and, together, make it all worthwhile.