Pax intrantibus 1914

Editor: Here we have Bernard Willem Wierink’s 1914 engraving titled "Pax Intrantibus", housed here at the Rijksmuseum. There's a striking duality here; the solemn figures seem to be reaching towards different ideals. What catches your eye in this work? Curator: Ah, yes. "Peace to those who enter." It speaks volumes, doesn't it? For me, it whispers of thresholds, both literal and spiritual. I see this not as just a static image but as a silent dialogue. The stoic figure above, bathed in starlight, embodies acceptance, while the one below seems to struggle, reaching with perhaps a touch of desperation toward a distant or unseeable goal, almost like a twisted Art Nouveau rendering of a Gothic gargoyle. Does that resonate with you at all? Editor: I hadn't considered the idea of a 'threshold' so explicitly. The 'Peace' figure in the upper panel almost feels aloof, while the lower figure emanates such drama and emotion. Why do you think Wierink chose to portray these contrasting emotions so vividly? Curator: Perhaps it's a commentary on the dual nature of peace itself – the acceptance, or attainment of peace by some contrasted by the desperate search for it by others. Or a reflection of the era. This was crafted on the brink of World War One. Consider the Latin phrase, then read it with the shadow of war hanging over everything; suddenly it becomes poignant and unsettling. The drawing date is 1914, though 1915 is emblazoned at the base, which might also deepen the conceptual context. Editor: It's amazing how much historical context can shift the way you perceive a piece. I see a war memorial; do you think the intention might also include more traditional religious allegory? Curator: Possibly! What I see most clearly, though, is the power of symbolism in the face of looming global chaos. It's like a prayer, a lament, and a prophecy all etched onto one small print. Editor: So, art as both reflection and anticipation, perhaps? It’s given me so much to consider! Curator: Indeed. Every glance reveals a new layer of its story, doesn’t it? It truly becomes *our* story, then.