Fillettes devant la vague 1908

Curator: Looking at Léon Spilliaert’s charcoal drawing, “Fillettes devant la vague,” created in 1908, I am struck by the sheer weight of the shadow engulfing the figures. Editor: Yes, there's an oppressive stillness to it. Despite being near the wave, it evokes isolation more than the energy of the sea. I am immediately thinking about the way the curves are flowing into a vanishing point and almost swallowing the two girls at the center of the frame. Curator: Spilliaert uses such stark contrast here, heightening the emotional impact. The girls almost seem like apparitions, with their pale dresses. The light appears almost threatening instead of illuminating. I wonder about the weight of cultural expectations imposed upon them at such a formative stage in their life, when they are meant to carry innocence like an emblem? Editor: It certainly feels deliberate, this sense of impending doom. The composition itself seems to box the girls in and traps them between light and shadow. Given Spilliaert's Symbolist leanings, could this shadow signify the unseen forces shaping their lives? I see parallels in the era’s literature exploring societal constraints, especially on women, where external expectations loom like an inescapable presence. Curator: Symbolism really pushes viewers to think about the invisible realms impacting the visible world. The wave, which one might normally see as life-giving, is looming like a giant mouth ready to devour them. In the visual language of dreams, waves frequently stand for being engulfed by the unconscious. Are the figures aware of their destiny or are they puppets performing the rituals they’ve been assigned? Editor: That adds another layer to this work, the unseen expectations of that time being forced upon them by socio-political expectations. Curator: In thinking about what it represents in our memory palace, the visual echoes reverberate! Editor: A potent image, laden with a disquieting premonition about our existence.