On the South Coast 1928

Editor: This is James McBey's "On the South Coast," a watercolor and drawing from 1928. It feels so calm and quiet, almost like a fleeting moment captured. How do you interpret this work through a formalist lens? Curator: Immediately striking is McBey's masterful manipulation of space and light through washes of colour. Consider the sky, a gradated expanse of pale blues and greys. Note how the tonality is meticulously calculated to guide the eye, establishing depth without recourse to traditional linear perspective. The composition’s effectiveness lies in this calculated arrangement. Editor: The brushstrokes do seem very intentional. Curator: Precisely. Observe the staccato marks that define the waves, and how they differ sharply from the smooth beach. That controlled variance introduces a visual rhythm and complexity. One could say the piece functions as a microcosm of nature's contrasts and harmonies. Do you find the material handling evocative? Editor: Definitely, there's a looseness that prevents it from feeling too rigid, almost impressionistic. What do you make of the vertical lines in the composition? Curator: An intriguing feature, disrupting the pictorial space while reaffirming the surface. Are they part of the paper? Guidelines? Regardless, they force a conscious engagement with the material, preventing total immersion into the scene. A crucial disruption, to my thinking. Editor: That’s fascinating; I hadn’t considered that before. Seeing it purely in terms of form really opens up new ways of understanding the work. Curator: Indeed. It is about apprehending how the visual and the material function together to construct meaning, detached from contextual consideration. A rewarding exercise.