Landscape with Saint Jerome 1555 - 1575

Editor: So, this is Lucas Gassel’s "Landscape with Saint Jerome," dating from somewhere between 1555 and 1575. It's currently hanging at The Met, and it's a tempera print using the intaglio and engraving techniques. What immediately grabs me is the incredibly detailed landscape – almost dreamlike in its layered composition. How do you interpret this work? Curator: It's interesting, isn’t it? A sort of meditative escape unfolds within that dense detail. To me, Gassel is conjuring a very personal retreat here. Saint Jerome, traditionally depicted in austere settings, is plopped down into this almost bizarrely cheerful, even bustling landscape. There’s a push and pull. Where do *you* feel your eye goes first? Is it drawn to the saint or does that wild landscape steal the show? Editor: I think my eye initially wanders all over the landscape. It's so meticulously rendered! It almost feels like a stage set with the Saint tucked away almost out of sight and at the margins. Is Gassel commenting on the role of the individual in the face of nature's grandeur? Curator: Precisely! The scale is intriguing, yes? We have this expansive, almost theatrical stage of nature overwhelming a lone, pensive figure. Consider too the technique; engraving lends itself to sharp lines, stark contrasts. It's almost as if Gassel is suggesting a tension. Jerome's spiritual contemplation *needs* that stark contrast to exist. The chaos amplifies the peace, perhaps? I wonder how that contrasts to what you think this work speaks to you? Editor: That's a really beautiful perspective. Initially, I got lost in the details, but now I appreciate the relationship between Saint Jerome and the landscape itself, and how one depends on the other. It's been fun "zooming out" of my own initial focus. Curator: Precisely, and that initial draw *is* a valuable insight itself. It reveals something important to *you* which might even teach me something as well. Cheers to seeing something in the details.