Reiger met zijn kop naar achter gedraaid 1891 - 1941

Editor: So, here we have Leo Gestel’s "Reiger met zijn kop naar achter gedraaid"– or “Heron with its head turned backward” made sometime between 1891 and 1941. It’s this really fluid ink sketch, hanging out here at the Rijksmuseum. It’s quite arresting, and somewhat whimsical–like he's caught the bird in a rather private moment. What jumps out at you when you look at this? Curator: Ah, yes. It's a doodle that sings! What captivates me is the economy of line. Each stroke is confident, playful almost, as if Gestel is not just observing the heron, but empathizing, feeling its peculiar grace. It’s like a jazz solo - minimal notes, maximum feeling. Do you get that sense too? Editor: Absolutely! It's spontaneous, raw almost. It reminds me of something I'd find scribbled in the margins of a scientist's notebook! Do you think it’s preparatory for a larger work, or perhaps an end in itself? Curator: Possibly neither! Or both. Perhaps it was purely for joy; a little visual poem composed on a whim. It's as if Gestel wasn’t striving for perfection, but embracing the inherent quirkiness of life - turning a perceived flaw (that backwards head) into a delightful focal point. Editor: That’s a lovely way to think about it. So much of art history feels heavy, serious; it’s nice to be reminded that there’s room for lightness too. Curator: Indeed. It whispers a reminder that art isn't always about grand statements but, instead, tiny, observant moments that allow us a peek inside someone else’s mind. What a privilege, right? Editor: Definitely. I'll never look at a bird stretching quite the same way.