Schetsboek met 164 pagina's c. 1864

Curator: Willem Springer Jr. gifted us with this "Sketchbook with 164 pages", circa 1864. We see his work primarily through the medium of drawing, using paper to capture portraits and landscapes. Editor: Right, and just looking at it, even closed as it is, there's a certain worn-in feeling about it. Like an old soul with lots of stories tucked between the covers. The dark cover whispers secrets, doesn't it? Curator: I'd suggest that's precisely where we find meaning – not simply within the images the sketchbook contains, but the book itself as artifact. How it survived. What it might reveal about artistic processes in the 19th century, questions of artistic labor and the social dimensions of landscape and portraiture. Editor: That’s so true. You imagine Springer lugging this around everywhere! It’s more than paper and drawings—it becomes a companion, a portable studio. It also creates this amazing intimacy. Curator: Absolutely. It disrupts the concept of art history being only about completed and exhibited artworks, which has typically centered white male European perspectives, inviting in all of those questions around who has the time and financial ability to paint and how we get to rewrite those histories and focus our gaze somewhere else. Editor: It's almost rebellious. Like a silent protest against polished perfection. Imagine flicking through those pages. The smell, the feel of the paper under your fingertips. You can almost hear the rustle, right? Curator: In a world increasingly digitized, the physicality of art feels so poignant. And I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge its relationship to colonialism; how did the paper itself make it into Springer’s hands? I wonder, and what is our responsibility when confronting its presence here? Editor: That makes me wonder, too. Each mark carries weight—both artistic intent and this sort of silent story it could tell if it could speak. Curator: So, it's about acknowledging a dialogue – the artwork, its historical context, its theoretical underpinnings, but most importantly its emotional residue and current socio-political narratives. Editor: Well, for me, it becomes this symbol of artistic possibility, an archive of unseen thoughts, ideas, perhaps failures! I love the idea of unlocking its personal significance layer by layer.