Briefkaart aan Jan Veth before 1886

Editor: So, here we have "Briefkaart aan Jan Veth," which translates to Postcard to Jan Veth, by Chap van Deventer, dating from before 1886. It's ink on paper. Initially, it feels quite intimate, seeing someone's handwritten correspondence. I wonder, what kind of relationship existed between them, what sort of context it provides and, generally speaking, what do you see in it? Curator: Oh, my dear, it's like holding a whisper from the past! I find the raw physicality so alluring, seeing the hand, almost feeling the very breath of the person who penned those words. Chap van Deventer. The paper, thin, absorbent, like memory itself… This humble artifact tells a tale, doesn't it? A story not of grand pronouncements, but of the subtle pulse of connection, of lived experience. And those little postal marks—each one is like a kiss from time! Does it spark a longing, a resonance of times forgotten? Editor: Definitely a longing. Knowing this was sent to an artist also intrigues me; I start inventing a story for their creative relationship. What was artmaking like at this time, that their address would be a hotel in Laren? Curator: Laren! An artist's enclave! Back then, those picturesque spots, they acted like magnets, pulling in kindred souls thirsty for beauty. They fed off each other, critiqued, and partied till the cows came home! This isn't just a simple postal transaction, you see? It’s an invitation to dive deep, and imagine yourself amidst these bohemians. So tell me, doesn’t that thought simply just ignite your own imagination? Editor: Absolutely. It makes me want to research Laren's art scene from that period! This little card is a tiny, tangible doorway. Curator: Precisely! And that’s why, even the most unassuming artwork— a simple postcard!— is capable of offering worlds, once we approach it with heart and curiousity. Editor: I'll definitely remember to be more observant when I approach this sort of "minor" work in the future. Thanks for pointing this out!