Untitled (Lower Fifth Avenue) 1936

Editor: This etching by Herman Meyer, "Untitled (Lower Fifth Avenue)," made in 1936, strikes me as incredibly still. It’s a quiet corner, almost melancholy, despite the city bustling around, no? What do you make of its atmosphere? Curator: You know, melancholy is a great word. It’s that echo of the past, isn’t it? The way he captures the architecture, especially that mix of low-rise buildings and the looming skyscraper... It’s like he's hinting at time passing, one era giving way to another. Those fluffy clouds feel rather heavy to me, maybe adding to the pensive mood. Do you notice how the lines direct your eye upward? Editor: Absolutely! I followed that sky. It seems almost… hopeful? Like there is sun just above those clouds and beyond the skyscraper. Curator: Interesting! Hopeful and melancholic could be on same coin in my view, reflecting perhaps both the dynamism and displacement that came with modernity. It's almost as if the old buildings on the ground are bowing before the sky reaching high rise behind. As though Meyer, as so many other artists of his era, were capturing a feeling of a world both found and lost. Does the stillness seem permanent or is there change coming? Editor: Good question. It does feel like a tipping point. That old and new collision. Curator: A collision but maybe also a harmonious tension. What I love about Meyer is he doesn't pass judgement; he invites you to reflect, and that in itself becomes the meaning. And that quiet street, that’s space for *us* to find our place in it all. Editor: Right, like an open stage. So, Meyer's just setting the scene and letting us bring our own story? Curator: Precisely. Beautiful, isn't it? That silence can be so loud. Editor: Absolutely, gives you space to breathe and really think. I appreciate the way it uses the city in all its grandness and stillness to reflect, like you said, a deep meditation about change, permanence and the past.