Brief aan Andries Bonger before 1899

Curator: Ah, here we have "Brief aan Andries Bonger," a letter, almost a cry from the heart, rendered in ink on paper by Émile Bernard, likely before 1899. What's your initial impression? Editor: It feels so… intimate, almost vulnerable. The handwriting, the blue ink on the page, it’s like we're peeking into a private moment. I'm curious though, what do you see beyond just a personal letter? Curator: Well, look closely, and you’ll see it is much more than just a grocery list. Beyond the beautiful melancholic handwriting, there's a glimpse into the artist’s state of mind. Imagine Bernard penning this, perhaps wrestling with creative doubts, personal struggles and the cost of maintaining relationships; it reminds us that even artistic geniuses were, at the end of the day, people first, dealing with the nitty-gritty of their lives! Editor: I can see that. So, it's not just about what's written, but the *act* of writing itself becoming a kind of self-portrait? Curator: Exactly! Think about how that frenetic energy translates onto paper, as we can also consider this frantic personal note as a type of early stream-of-consciousness. Notice also how this piece might also allude to Vincent van Gogh, and perhaps a brotherly relation, to be used as both companion, confidante, and patron? Does this open other questions for you? Editor: Definitely. Knowing the Van Gogh connection makes it even more poignant, I'd imagine. Like we are getting a raw slice of art history itself! Curator: Indeed! And that’s the beauty of art, isn’t it? What seemed as a piece of blue writing reveals depths we wouldn't expect upon first glance. Editor: It is so cool how an epistolary format is in a way similar to social media… Thank you so much, it feels like the work now breathes, and lives on in time through its message of friendship. Curator: You’re welcome! Each encounter is a thread connecting us through time.