Out of My Brooklyn Window 1923

Joseph Pennell made this etching called "Out of My Brooklyn Window" and I can't help but wonder what it was like to be him, looking out at that view, ready to translate it into a network of lines. The whole thing is about process, isn't it? Look at the way the ink is almost like a nervous system, all these tiny marks building up into a city. The texture is so delicate, like he's barely touching the plate, just letting the acid do its thing. It's this dance between control and letting go that I find so compelling. There's this one spot, right in the foreground, where the lines get really dense and scribbly. It almost feels like a knot of energy, like the whole city is condensed into that one little area. It reminds me of some of Whistler's cityscapes, all that atmospheric haze and suggestion. It's not about perfection, it's about feeling. And that's what makes it so alive, even now.