Brief aan Philip Zilcken Possibly 1918

Curator: This intriguing piece is "Brief aan Philip Zilcken," possibly from 1918, crafted by Cyriel Buysse using mixed media including ink and paper. What's your initial reaction to it? Editor: Well, it feels fragile and intimate, like stumbling upon a whispered conversation from another era. The aged paper lends it this ghost-like quality, and the hand-lettering gives a human touch. Curator: Indeed. The work exemplifies an aesthetic of intentionality. Note the careful rendering of each character, forming a script both legible and visually engaging. Observe also the use of space; each line, each word appears deliberately placed on the aged paper. Editor: It’s like peeking into the writer's mind as thoughts are forming. Look, there’s a stamp or maybe a faded image up top—a soldier, perhaps? And "Pour le tabac du soldat Belge." A call for tobacco for Belgian soldiers—there's such tangible wartime necessity captured in an otherwise formal missive. Curator: Precisely. That imprinted vignette juxtaposes with the main body of the text. We see calligraphy intersecting with the stark reality of war, visualized as propaganda meeting personal correspondence, where, although personalized, this script reveals more than it conceals. Editor: And what's with that P.S. at the bottom? A mention of dimensions... for paintings maybe? It appears this is an ask of some kind... to provide artistic services to some programs, covers… something wartime-adjacent, most likely. There's almost a melancholic hum in the utility of art for something beyond art. Curator: Buysse's artistry transcends mere communication. The letter itself functions as an aesthetic object. Look how it merges public service with fine artistry, raising crucial questions about the very function of beauty in times of strife. Editor: Right. Makes you consider all the unsent letters, or those that didn't survive. To witness the act of writing preserved this way...it’s a beautiful kind of haunting. I keep getting pulled back in...to the intimacy of penmanship on old paper. Curator: An artifact both beautiful and sad, then. Food for thought.