Fields Ascending 1991

Editor: Okay, next up we have Eyvind Earle's "Fields Ascending," painted in 1991, using tempera on, I presume, board. This piece feels so incredibly controlled, yet the light is almost dreamlike. It’s a stylized landscape, almost geometric. What do you see in this piece that I might be missing? Curator: Oh, darling, you’re right – Earle does seem to squeeze poetry from precision! It’s more than just landscape; it’s landscape filtered through memory, a place half-remembered. Do you see how he flattens the perspective, stacking the planes one atop the other? It’s like a stage set. I imagine Earle standing before a canvas humming to himself, lost in a world of shapes, feeling rather than copying nature, wouldn’t you say? Editor: That's a lovely image, actually! And the stage set idea makes total sense; it has a constructed, almost artificial quality. But isn't nature always a construction in art, in a way? Curator: Precisely! And Earle seems to be winking at us with that. These aren’t "real" fields; they're Fields of the Imagination ascending! Notice, too, how the little trees almost glow against the dark hills? And is that a tiny tractor way down there? The guy’s got a sense of humor! Do you see it now? It’s an intensely personal world, filtered through a fantastically trained artist’s eye. Editor: I see it! It feels a little less controlled and more playful now, that tiny tractor seals the deal. It's been great looking at this with you, I never would have noticed this depth on my own. Curator: The pleasure’s all mine. These old canvases have secrets, and they enjoy revealing them, with a little prompting! Now, about that tractor... is it headed somewhere, or just blissfully lost in Earle's painted paradise? We may never know.