Vrouw aan een spinnewiel bij een open raam 1888

Editor: Okay, so here we have Émile de Baré’s “Woman at a Spinning Wheel by an Open Window,” created in 1888. It’s an etching, giving it this really lovely, almost ghostly quality. The woman seems so focused, bathed in this light… it's very peaceful, don't you think? What jumps out at you? Curator: Peaceful, yes, but for me it’s also about constraint, isn't it? See how she’s framed? That dark interior pressing against the light outside? Is she imprisoned, or protected? And the spinning wheel... not a choice, but an expectation of women in those times, wouldn’t you say? Does it whisper a promise, or a warning? I find it really quite layered. Editor: Constraint… I hadn’t considered that. I was so caught up in the… well, I suppose the romantic ideal of domesticity. But the spinning wheel *is* pretty loaded, historically. The way you describe her relationship with the light – interesting. Curator: Exactly! De Baré gives us so little solid detail and relies on a lot of soft suggestion – perhaps that’s what gives it such a lasting quality? Editor: The light, the lack of precise details… It almost feels impressionistic despite being a print. Now I’m wondering if it’s more about fleeting feelings than cold, hard reality. I appreciate that take! Thanks. Curator: Precisely! It dances somewhere between the real and the perceived – a very slippery place to be, in life and in art. And, really, that’s where the magic is, isn’t it?