Liggende hund 1864 - 1941

Editor: Here we have "Liggende hund," or "Reclining Dog," a colored-pencil drawing by Niels Larsen Stevns, made sometime between 1864 and 1941. The drawing looks like a quick sketch in a notebook; the lines are simple but somehow capture the essence of a dog's repose. What do you make of it? Curator: Well, I see a dog captured in quietude, its form abstracted to basic shapes. It’s like the artist distilled the idea of 'dogness' down to a few essential lines. Don't you think it's fascinating how much personality is conveyed with so little detail? It makes you wonder, what was the dog like, do you think? What was Stevns thinking when he sketched this out, on the fly as it was? Editor: I think I get that, because there’s a vulnerability to it, like we're seeing the dog at its most unguarded. It really speaks to the intimacy between the artist and the subject. The economy of line… it’s not overworked, somehow preserving the immediacy of the moment. Almost casual, but clearly studied! Curator: Exactly! There’s an energy that meticulous rendering can sometimes kill. The 'artist' has let the line flow as naturally as possible, giving a truthful representation, even though quite basic, of the soul of the dog in a moment. Tell me, do you feel you can picture Stevns, sketchbook in hand, immortalizing a dear, and perhaps weary, friend? Editor: Now I do! And looking at it now, I really like the suggestion that even rough sketches can hold so much expression. I used to think a work of art was about meticulous rendering, not instant impression. Thanks for making me see the emotional depth in it. Curator: My pleasure! And maybe next time, when we sit and look at art together, it will reveal something new in ourselves too!