Skitser af fugle. Farveangivelser 1900 - 1905

Curator: So, here we have "Skitser af fugle. Farveangivelser," which translates to "Sketches of Birds. Colour Indications," by Niels Larsen Stevns, dating from around 1900 to 1905. It’s currently held at the SMK, the National Gallery of Denmark. Editor: Instantly, I'm drawn to the vulnerability of these little creatures. They feel unfinished, raw, like captured thoughts fluttering on the page. You can almost feel Stevns observing them, trying to understand their essence. Curator: Absolutely. It's pencil and colored pencil on paper, offering us a glimpse into Stevns's working process. The use of colored pencil, though subtle, hints at an attempt to capture the life and vibrancy he observed in the birds, before solidifying a finished composition. It strikes me that Stevns really wanted to render the fleeting energy of birds and he even felt the urge to capture color right away, instead of relying on monochrome tones only. Editor: Right, and looking at the paper itself, it seems to be squared. It points to its likely function as a field notebook, a portable surface for capturing these ephemeral observations. We can picture the artist outdoors or in his studio, constantly watching and jotting down his findings. The accessibility and relative cheapness of paper in the turn of the century helped the artist make his studies outdoors more freely. Curator: Precisely. It reminds me of something Rilke once said about drawing—"Drawing is a kind of shorthand of seeing." Stevns wasn’t trying to produce a polished artwork; he was attempting to transcribe his perception, the sensation of watching these living beings. You notice the tentative, almost searching lines? It's that "shorthand of seeing" in action. Editor: And the immediacy translates even now, even generations later. Knowing he aimed at capturing colors on paper helps to grasp a deeper connection with how perception operates in our daily life. These weren’t merely static depictions, were about recording the birds and their fleeting colorful presences through material gestures. Curator: Exactly! Think about it—these sketches, created with humble materials, capture something vital, the quick movements, and light playing on feathers... They're not monumental masterpieces; they’re more like visual poems. Editor: Yes. So, considering all of that—the paper, the colored pencils, and the technique—it adds up to this powerful glimpse into how the materiality of art interacts with the natural world, a way to document what one observes without overpowering its original source of energy and inspiration. Curator: I agree. They feel surprisingly fresh still today. Almost weightless.