Selvportræt 1902

Editor: Here we have Harald Giersing’s “Self-Portrait” from 1902, rendered in pencil on paper. The piece gives off a somber, almost yearning quality. What catches your eye when you look at this portrait? Curator: Well, you know, it’s like peeking into the artist's soul, isn't it? Look at the softness of the lines, almost hesitant. It speaks to a young artist, just on the cusp of discovering his own voice, wrestling, perhaps, with identity itself. There's a vulnerability here, wouldn't you agree? And those eyes – so direct, yet carrying a certain weight. It reminds me of those early mornings when the city is still asleep, and you feel the whole world’s possibilities and anxieties pressing in at once. What do you make of the unfinished quality? Editor: I noticed that too – how the lower part of the portrait dissolves into almost chaotic scribbles. Could that signify a lack of confidence or perhaps experimentation? Curator: Exactly! It’s like he's saying, "This is me, but I’m still becoming." Remember, this was around the time modernism was taking root; artists were questioning everything. Form, identity... and, hell, maybe Giersing was simply bored of drawing ties! Do you think it matters it is a self-portrait, how does that impact the work? Editor: It definitely adds a layer of introspection. He's not just depicting a subject; he's confronting himself. Knowing this is a self-portrait also allows me to view the scribbles differently, maybe they represent inner turmoil, doubts that every young artist feels when starting out. Curator: Precisely! That's what art does, darling. It makes us ask questions, of ourselves, of the world. Editor: This has been such a fresh perspective! I will remember Giersing and his questions the next time I look in the mirror.