Saint Christopher c. 1480

Curator: Standing before us is a woodcut from around 1480, entitled "Saint Christopher." Editor: It's delightfully quirky, isn't it? There's a strange calmness amidst the somewhat naive execution. Like a half-remembered dream shimmering with devotion. Curator: The charm you observe perhaps resides in the piece's simple yet powerful composition. Notice how the strong vertical of Christopher himself, aided by his staff, bisects the work, providing a sense of stability against the diagonal pull of the water. Editor: Right, the formal structure offers this really lovely sense of determined movement. Christopher strides purposefully; you almost feel the river’s current tugging against him and, humorously, you wonder about the little tyke up there on his shoulders who clearly is having a wild time! Curator: According to the legend, Christopher was a giant who dedicated himself to carrying people across a dangerous river. One day, a child asked to be carried. As Christopher waded through the waters, the child grew heavier and heavier. The child, of course, was Christ, and Christopher was bearing the weight of the world's sins. Editor: Which gives the work a profound weight. Suddenly, the "naivete" reads as something else entirely – a powerful kind of simple sincerity and humility. The sort that cuts right to the chase: it's about the carrying, about the connection, about that incredible, paradoxical lightness and heaviness we can experience in faith and life. And the little, blocky towers in the background just look like simple dreams for humankind’s future! Curator: Absolutely. And think about the medium—the woodcut itself. It demanded bold lines, direct expression. Editor: A bold, kind, colourful world, borne on someone else’s weary, willing shoulders. Looking at the texture, you imagine how this would have felt under your fingertips, the little indentations and imperfections... I love it.