Shipyard c. 1942

Edward Arthur Wilson made this etching, “Shipyard,” sometime during his career. I imagine the artist, Wilson, with his etching needle, digging into the metal plate, line by line. The eye is immediately drawn to the scale of the ship. The workers are tiny against its hull. The ship feels like a mountain in the making, a collective endeavor of this anonymous workforce. I can almost hear the clang of metal on metal, the shouts and commands, the low hum of activity. Look at the density of marks that build the form. You can see a pattern of long and short strokes used to create a sense of depth and texture. It is an artist's trick, and the result is a beautiful tonal range. For Wilson, and for us, the shipyard becomes a kind of theater, and an industrial cathedral. Like all artists, Wilson converses with the past and reaches out to the future, and, as a painter, I am now in conversation with him. It is this dialogue that keeps art alive and full of potential.