Bull's Eye c. 1938

Editor: This is "Bull's Eye," an etching from around 1938 by Edward Hagedorn. It strikes me as strangely bleak, with the ominous darkness looming over what seems to be a battlefield. What do you make of this scene? Curator: Bleak is a good word, it feels like a fragment of a forgotten nightmare. The stark contrast and the awkward, almost alien form dominating the composition – perhaps that represents the faceless, inexorable nature of war itself? I find myself wondering, who is aiming at whom here, and what's at stake? Is that a fellow soldier in the background, or the enemy? Editor: The ambiguity definitely amplifies the unsettling mood. And the 'bull's eye' is literally a bull's eye in the sky. That doesn't quite fit does it? Curator: Maybe not. I'm taken back to a story my grandfather used to tell; he said during battles soldiers would see anything – loved ones faces, harbingers of doom, or a big eye watching all their struggles! It’s the kind of hallucinatory, high stakes landscape that engraves itself into a mind under duress and into a memory, and he brought that memory into sharp relief here using etching techniques. The etching makes everything stark and somewhat unforgiving. Editor: So it's like Hagedorn is presenting a raw, unfiltered perspective on war through the lens of personal trauma? Curator: Precisely. Look at the deliberate use of dark and light. Almost violently divided between shadow and the barest hints of illumination. Everything is simplified into forms that feel weighty with emotion. Maybe 'Bull's Eye' isn't just about aiming; perhaps it is about bearing witness, wrestling with memory, making marks that echo in the abyss. I think he nailed it. Editor: This has helped me appreciate how even a seemingly simple image can be packed with complex emotions and narratives. Thank you! Curator: It's the beauty of art; it keeps revealing new layers with each gaze.