Stehende Kühe von hinten gesehen 

Curator: We’re looking at a pencil drawing here at the Städel Museum by Friedrich Wilhelm Hirt titled, “Stehende Kühe von hinten gesehen.” It translates to “Standing Cows Seen from Behind.” Editor: Well, they certainly are seen from behind! The drawing has a gentle, almost comical quality, though. A very immediate impression. Curator: Interesting. Why comical? I perceive it as more stoic and muted, despite its rapid execution. Perhaps it's the texture and color—the monochromatic brown pencil evokes a sense of earthiness and even antiquity. Editor: Perhaps “comical” is the wrong word. It is the sheer ungainliness, the rumps of these creatures. They take on a weight of something deeper. For centuries, the cow has been associated with nourishment and motherhood, symbols of prosperity, even sacrifice. Do you read that in it? Curator: I think that's definitely *a* reading. I’m struck, however, by the artist’s choice to position us behind the animals. There's a conscious obscuring. The composition highlights their forms and mass through shadow, and a study of form. Editor: But by only showing the rear view, does that suggest a refusal to engage directly, perhaps? Turning one's back on traditional bucolic imagery and ideals of nature? Curator: It certainly resists the picturesque. However, it allows us to concentrate solely on mass and presence without any sentimental distraction of facial expression or interaction. A deliberate reduction to basic shapes. Editor: It’s curious. There's a tension, a push and pull. Do we embrace our traditions or move away from them? I see how these deceptively simple cow sketches speak to so much. Curator: Indeed. An artwork may present itself humbly and without color and yet yield very many considerations on the artistic process. I do value how your viewpoint, by interpreting its deeper symbolic weight, allows us to reflect upon these images’ potential for transformation and significance.