Isaac Israels made this drawing, ‘Lopende figuren en een vrouwenhoofd’, with graphite, I imagine in a flurry of movement, trying to capture bodies in motion. I feel the artist’s hand as they worked, sketching furiously to keep up with the fleeting glimpses of figures hurrying past. The marks are light and searching, a web of lines that suggest rather than define. I can almost see him, squinting, scribbling, trying to pin down the essence of a gesture, the tilt of a head. The surface is raw, with a kind of vulnerability—each line a testament to the artist's struggle to capture the ephemeral. I am reminded that every artist is in dialogue with those who came before, borrowing, responding, and pushing against the tradition. It’s like a game of telephone across generations. What is the rumour that's being passed on?
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