Jongen knielt bij een hond in een mand 1870 - 1937

Willem Wenckebach's monochromatic drawing shows a boy kneeling by a dog in a basket, and it’s rendered in delicate brushstrokes and tonal washes of ink. I can imagine Wenckebach standing there, hunched over, carefully applying each layer to build up the shadows and create a sense of depth. What was he thinking about as he worked? I bet he had his own dog. I bet he loved that dog like anything. Look at how the brushstrokes create a soft, blurred effect, especially in the background foliage. It's like a hazy memory or a dream. The texture of the paper peeks through in places, giving the drawing a tactile quality. The darkest accents define the folds in the boy's clothing and the contours of the dog's head. The subtle gradations of tone capture the soft light filtering through the trees. It reminds me of Whistler’s nocturnes, or Corot’s landscapes, where atmosphere and mood are everything. Artists are always borrowing from each other, riffing on each other’s ideas across time. Painting is a constant conversation. And maybe, in the end, all we’re really painting is feeling.