Brief aan Philip Zilcken Possibly 1923 - 1924

This letter, penned in 1923 by Alphonse Stengelin, is a flurry of graphite-on-paper gestures, each stroke bearing witness to the act of writing itself. It’s like watching the artist think on the page. Imagine Stengelin, leaning over this very sheet, the nib of his pen dancing across the surface, each word a deliberate mark in conversation with his friend Philip Zilcken. It’s not just the content of the letter but the material presence of the writing. The light reflecting off the graphite, the texture of the paper beneath the artist’s hand. The careful script reminds me of Cy Twombly’s scribbled paintings. All those layers of marks, erasures, and corrections building up into a palimpsest of thought and feeling. Like Twombly, Stengelin transforms the act of writing into something deeply personal and expressive. Artists, you know, we’re all in conversation with each other, across time, inspiring each other’s creativity. It’s about embracing the ambiguity and uncertainty, allowing for multiple readings, and acknowledging that there's no one way to understand.