Deel van het hoofd van een man 1522 - 1583

Curator: It's almost like a whisper on paper, isn't it? Ethereal. Editor: Yes, hauntingly unfinished. "Deel van het hoofd van een man"—"Part of a man's head." Made with pencil on paper by Bernardino Lanino, sometime between 1522 and 1583. Curator: You know, the very visible process—the under-drawing laid bare—somehow brings me closer to the artist's hand. There's such vulnerability in those tentative lines. He's really just feeling his way. Editor: The vulnerability speaks volumes about portraiture in the Mannerist era, particularly for men. Hyper-masculinity was the norm; an image like this dares to suggest otherwise, revealing a pensive or uncertain state of mind, resisting societal pressures, don't you think? Curator: Perhaps. Or maybe it's the freedom of a preliminary sketch, where the weight of expectation hasn’t yet settled in. I’m taken by the almost obsessive detail around what we can see of the hair—curly, full. Like a halo. Editor: I do see the "halo" effect you speak of, but it also brings up the question of access and class, doesn't it? I see a white European male—represented with incredible artistic skill even in fragmented form, a level of artistic care, consideration and talent. The gaze, even incomplete, holds power. Curator: Well, to me, the incompleteness makes it universal. It becomes everyman… every fragment of our selves, searching for completion. It could be anyone. Editor: I hear you. And it serves as a reminder, then, to look for those untold stories lurking within these seemingly straightforward images—to think about who is represented and who isn’t, which perspectives are valued. Curator: Precisely! Art is just like life—layers upon layers, secrets whispered, and always something more to uncover if we just pause long enough to really see. Editor: Always more to excavate, absolutely! It seems art encourages us to consider the complexities of existence—past and present.