The Baptistry, Florence 1920

William Walcot made this etching, The Baptistry, Florence, with what looks like a drypoint needle, to me creating a kind of delicate, shimmering world. The linear quality here, it's all about the touch, a dance between control and letting go. Look at how Walcot captures the facade – it's not just about depicting stone and structure. The lines are so fragile and free they almost float, like he's chasing after the light as it bounces off the building. See how the figures almost dissolve into the architecture, and the architecture dissolves into the sky? He's interested in the atmosphere, more than the facts. It feels like a fleeting moment, not some grand, historical statement. For me, this piece feels like a love letter to Piranesi, who was also interested in the poetics of architecture, but it also anticipates the more lyrical cityscapes of someone like Christopher Nevinson. There's a real conversation happening here, across time, about how we see and feel the spaces we inhabit.