The Quadrangle, Bart's Hospital 1938

William Walcot's etching of "The Quadrangle, Bart's Hospital" renders an urban scene with a muted palette, almost monochromatic. It's like a memory, a captured moment, maybe from life, maybe from a dream. I'm thinking about Walcot, bent over the plate, scratching away, building up this delicate filigree of lines. What was he thinking about? Was he lost in the details of the architecture, or was he more interested in the people milling about? Look at the way the trees frame the buildings, their branches like spindly fingers reaching across the scene. It's a dance of light and shadow, a push and pull between the solid forms of the buildings and the ephemeral presence of nature. The surface of the paper feels important here, like the scene is emerging out of the grain. It reminds you that artists are always talking to each other across time. Walcot probably looked at Piranesi. It’s a conversation, you know? A way of seeing and feeling the world.