Twee zeekoeten 1885 - 1931

Editor: This is "Twee zeekoeten" or "Two Guillemots", a drawing by Frederika Henriëtte Broeksmit made sometime between 1885 and 1931. It's mostly done in pencil, though there is a kind of wash to it as well. It makes me think about old scientific illustrations, but with a little more personality! What stands out to you in this work? Curator: You know, what grabs me is the…well, the *soul* these birds seem to have. Look at those beady little eyes! They're judging us, aren't they? Broeksmit wasn’t just rendering fowl, she was capturing character, maybe even hinting at a mirror of ourselves. Have you noticed how much of the composition depends on the negative space around them? It's almost like she’s sculpting their presence out of thin air, wouldn't you say? Editor: Absolutely, and the stark contrast! It makes the birds really pop. Almost like they're pressed against a window, peering in. Curator: Exactly! And it gets me thinking...were these studies for a larger work? Or maybe intimate portraits of creatures she felt a kinship with? Either way, there’s a quiet affection, a keen observational humour. Did you know, artists at this time were turning away from grand historical painting towards more intimate subjects. Perhaps Broeksmit felt like these unassuming seabirds reflected her own turning away from public grandeur towards inward observation. Editor: That's such a cool way to see it! I was so focused on the scientific aspect that I totally missed that layer of personal expression. Curator: That’s the funny thing about art, isn’t it? It's always talking back to us, reflecting who we are and where we're standing as much as the artist's intent. Today, it seems those guillemots showed *us* a little something. Editor: Yeah, it's like they revealed something about seeing in general!