Poolvogels c. 1880 - 1887

Editor: So, this sketchbook page, “Poolvogels” by Louis Apol, was created somewhere between 1880 and 1887. It’s a collection of bird sketches, rapidly rendered with colored pencil and watercolor on toned paper. I find it interesting, in that it feels like you’re catching the artist in a very private, observational moment. What draws your eye when you look at this page? Curator: Ah, yes. I can almost smell the damp earth and feel the chill in the air as Apol sketches. This isn’t about polished perfection; it's about immediacy. The toned paper acts as an atmospheric haze, pushing the viewer right into the heart of a Dutch winter landscape. Don't you feel that you are intruding in the artist's world? Like stepping softly into his private observations. Editor: Absolutely! It feels very intimate. The quick lines give a sense of movement, like he’s trying to capture these birds before they fly away. And I love how some of the sketches are more developed than others. What do you think about that artistic decision? Curator: It’s a peek into the artistic process itself. Some details crystallize, others remain ghosts. It's like Apol is grappling with form, with essence. Imagine him, hand freezing, squinting against the pale light... Perhaps some birds held still longer? Or maybe, he thought some were simply more crucial to define. The beauty here is not in a flawless rendering but a raw, searching honesty, don’t you think? Editor: I agree! It makes the piece feel incredibly authentic. Thanks! Now I have a completely different perspective of the artist at work. Curator: Exactly! Art is rarely a clean, seamless act, more often than not a bit clumsy, chaotic and fleeting. I love to catch a glimpse of the raw creative moment. That is what makes me passionate.