Twee studies van een kinderhoofd c. 1882

Editor: Right, next up we have George Hendrik Breitner's "Two Studies of a Child's Head," a pencil drawing on paper from around 1882. There's a real vulnerability in these quick sketches. What stands out to you about it? Curator: I’m immediately drawn to the labor implied here. Breitner isn't aiming for high polish; he's working through ideas. Look at the paper, the very support of the image—its texture, its availability, its cost. It dictates a certain kind of practice, a casualness that disrupts traditional ideas of portraiture as commissioned, laboured-over display. What kind of accessibility to art education do you think underpinned his being able to make this artwork? Editor: That’s interesting. I hadn't considered how the paper itself plays a role in defining the work. It does feel immediate, like he’s capturing a fleeting moment. Do you think the sketches would've been considered practice or works to be exhibited in their own right? Curator: The very notion of "practice" presupposes a hierarchy, doesn't it? That some labor is more valuable, more refined, than others. Consider who had access to formal artistic training at this time, who could afford the materials and the time to 'practice'. Breitner's sketches, even if intended as preparatory studies, disrupt that neat division between high art and the daily labor involved in its creation. Were studies like these sometimes sold? And who purchased them? That would dictate its economic status. Editor: I guess I always think of drawings as inherently less ‘valuable’ than paintings but what you're saying completely changes that. Thinking about the materials and production makes me see it with fresh eyes. Curator: Exactly! It allows us to really appreciate the skill and decision-making, without getting hung up on preconceived notions about what "Art" should be. How different the reading would be had it been oil on canvas. Editor: So true. Thanks! I’ve definitely learned something new today.