Der Krieg schreitet über eine Ortschaft 1914

Editor: We’re looking at Paul Klee’s 1914 ink drawing, "Der Krieg schreitet über eine Ortschaft," which translates to “War advances over a town." It’s a jumble of angular shapes, vaguely resembling buildings, all rendered in shades of gray. The mood is definitely unsettling; it feels chaotic and fractured. What strikes you most about this work? Curator: It's the dance between destruction and creation, isn’t it? Klee made this on the cusp of the Great War, and you feel that impending doom, but also a bizarre beauty. Look closely at the lines – they're so fragile, almost playful, yet they depict utter devastation. It reminds me of scribbling as a kid; totally free and innocent… then using that freedom to create something terrible. Editor: So, the chaos isn’t entirely negative? Curator: Precisely! Klee's not just documenting war, he's reimagining it. The 'village' seems almost to dissolve before our eyes, becoming something new, something abstract. Are those rooftops? Barricades? It's both at once, a testament to war's ability to destroy and transform. What do you feel when you imagine walking through that village? Editor: Honestly, dread, but also a strange fascination, like watching a building implode in slow motion. Curator: Beautifully put. It's a work that leaves you unsettled but pondering, and isn't that what great art should do? To make us ask questions about ourselves, even uncomfortable ones? Editor: Absolutely! I'm now seeing that the beauty might be in facing those unsettling questions. Curator: And perhaps, a glimmer of hope, too. Klee once said that art does not reproduce the visible, but makes visible. Maybe that new visibility can help us to avoid such scenes of destruction in the future.