IJsberg met zeehonden in de Barentszzee 1880

Curator: Welcome! We’re standing before Louis Apol’s 1880 pencil drawing, "Iceberg with Seals in the Barents Sea," currently held here at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: My god, what a lonely, haunting little sketch. It’s so…bleak! All that muted grey. I feel chilly just looking at it. Curator: Yes, and consider Apol’s technique. This isn't some grand, heroic depiction of nature; it's a study, really, focusing on the textures of ice and water, meticulously rendered with just a pencil. We must remember this was done during a time when Arctic expeditions captured the public’s imagination but also fueled debates about human impact on untouched environments. Editor: You're right. I was immediately drawn to the seals—the smudges of dark against all that ice. But looking closer, their presence becomes even more poignant. Are they thriving, or just clinging to a fragment in a disappearing world? And thinking of that, were those seals the last subject he drew, and left that as the tail end. Curator: A powerful thought. And let's also think about the materiality of pencil itself - graphite, a product of industrial mining. Even in portraying this remote, seemingly untouched scene, Apol subtly acknowledges the reach of industry and commerce into every corner of the globe. He’s confronting the expansion with its ramifications for wildlife and landscape, as he continues drawing closer and closer. Editor: It really is layered, isn’t it? At first glance, it's simple, quiet. But it sneaks up on you with these ecological and historical undertones, as they become far less quiet with context. This image speaks of how the touch of the hand is as permanent as a footprint in ice. It is no different in nature, or art. Curator: Precisely. Apol gives us both a scene and a silent commentary, using such a simple medium to discuss production and commerce, bringing it straight to paper in monochrome. Editor: It reminds me to slow down, to look closer, to think about the impact of just…existing. The Barentsz Sea reminds me that our impact has effects that stretch, beyond the horizon.