Portrait of Miss Hedwig Ruetz 1903

Max Liebermann captured Miss Hedwig Ruetz in oil, and what strikes me is how softly the painting has come into being, like a half-remembered dream. I can see the artist gently coaxing her likeness onto the canvas; it must have been such an intimate moment. Look at the muted tones—the blacks, greys, and creams—they give the image a quiet, contemplative mood. The paint is applied in such thin layers, allowing the texture of the canvas to peek through, adding another layer to the work. The way her hands are clasped tells us a lot. There’s a feeling of patience, perhaps even vulnerability. It’s this ability to communicate feeling through posture that makes portraiture such a compelling form. It reminds me of other artists of the period, like Whistler, who were equally interested in capturing a sitter’s inner life, of showing character. Painting is like a conversation between artists across time, each one responding to the other, inspiring new ways of seeing and feeling. It's a form of expression that embraces ambiguity. And I find that really comforting.