Kind David with his harp 1668 - 1673

Curator: Here we have Giovanni Battista Beinaschi's "Kind David with his harp", created between 1668 and 1673. It’s a drawing in pencil on paper, currently held at the SMK, the Statens Museum for Kunst. What strikes you about it? Editor: It’s quite ethereal, almost like a fading memory. The texture feels delicate, the light washes over David's figure... there's something profoundly human, but a bit mournful. Like a forgotten melody longing to be heard again. Curator: That mournfulness may arise from the context. Beinaschi worked within the Baroque period in Rome, often tasked with depicting emotional and dramatic religious subjects. David, a key figure in the Old Testament, appears here in a moment of introspection, possibly during or after composing his psalms. Editor: Interesting. To me, it seems as though David is gazing upward, perhaps seeking inspiration, lost in some divine reverberation of creativity. His bare feet grounding him, as his flowing robes lift to the sky. Curator: Yes, observe his elevated gaze and regal posture. The Baroque style aimed to inspire awe, often presenting biblical figures with grandeur. However, Beinaschi's use of subtle shading and less defined lines makes it feel raw. It gives the piece a sense of humility, quite unique from many baroque artworks. Editor: Perhaps humility IS the right word. I notice imperfections; these almost-coffee stains across the page? They soften its authority and makes me wonder... how does an artist create something sacred from imperfection? Is it the artist showing that divinity is found in humanness, found in flaws? Curator: An intriguing observation, because, in that time, there were clear institutional efforts to promote proper and exemplary figures, yet, a stain is there in plain sight. The paper itself serves as material evidence for its cultural endurance. The imperfections only prove the artist’s commitment. Editor: Well said. It makes me think the music this David would compose is full of dissonance. Complex. Real. A raw honesty echoing for centuries, now held in silence on this single sheet of paper. Curator: Thank you for offering that perspective. Examining artworks through that lens, you notice aspects that otherwise may be looked over. Editor: Thanks, and thank you. I never truly understood baroque but feel now I hear its echo, slightly differently because of our chat.