Portret van een onbekende vrouw met hoed c. 1919

Editor: So this is "Portret van een onbekende vrouw met hoed," a pencil drawing from around 1919 by Isaac Israels, currently at the Rijksmuseum. It’s… well, it’s a sketch, right? Feels very intimate, like a peek into the artist's private thoughts. What captures your attention when you look at it? Curator: Ah, Israels. He’s winking at us, isn’t he? More a suggestion of a woman than a rigid, defined portrait. Think of a jazz riff—it's not about hitting every note perfectly, but the feeling. This is seeing with your heart first, your eyes second. Notice how the hat seems almost to float, not really anchored to her head? Makes you wonder, doesn’t it, what other little rebellions she might be up to? Editor: That’s a cool analogy. I was thinking it felt unfinished, but "suggestion" feels more right. Like he captured her essence with just a few strokes. Curator: Exactly! Israels wasn’t after photographic accuracy. He was an Impressionist, remember. More concerned with fleeting impressions. What was she thinking, feeling in that instant? What's the story behind that tilt of her head? What if he filled in all those missing lines? Would she have as much charm? I doubt it. Editor: I guess if it were "finished," we wouldn't be invited into the moment, right? Curator: Precisely. It's like a secret whispered between the artist and us, decades later. These initial sketches—so vibrant, so full of potential—they capture a feeling long after the finished works have gathered dust. Editor: This has completely changed how I see sketches! It’s not about the "end product" failing. It’s a special kind of seeing, or maybe feeling. Curator: That’s it exactly! You’ve caught the bug. Now you'll start seeing potential masterpieces in every doodle. Lucky you!