Hoofd van een putto 1587 - 1660

Editor: So here we have "Head of a Putto," thought to be made sometime between 1587 and 1660, by Giacomo Cavedone. It's a charcoal drawing, and it feels quite…tender, I think? Almost melancholic, in a way that feels surprisingly modern for something so old. What's your read on this drawing? Curator: Ah, yes. It’s like catching a glimpse of a thought before it fully forms, isn't it? The charcoal feels almost like smoke, like the cherub is materializing or dematerializing before our very eyes. There’s a weight to the gaze that defies the fluffy curls. Almost a premonition of adulthood lurking within childhood’s round face. Does the texture of the paper suggest something to you? The way the charcoal grabs onto it... Editor: It makes me think of rough sketches, of an artist working out an idea, almost a practice piece. Is this just a preliminary study? Curator: Perhaps. Or maybe it’s complete in its incompleteness. It invites us to fill in the blanks, to co-create, almost, the finished cherub. Cavedone leaves so much to suggestion – it makes you wonder, what does a putto *think* about? Is it pure joy, or something more complex? The subtle cross-hatching adds depth, like little whispers suggesting hidden emotional layers. Do you get that feeling? Editor: Definitely, that makes perfect sense. It's making me reconsider how much an unfinished work can say! There's a lot to chew on in that small face. Curator: Indeed. Sometimes, it’s in the suggestion, in the negative space, where the real story unfolds. We both have filled those spaces to give that putto his due voice and presence.