San Marco, Venice 1961 - 1962

Curator: Looking at John Piper’s San Marco, Venice, I am immediately transported by the feeling of it—a stormy night, perhaps, or a memory fading at the edges. Editor: Indeed, Piper’s exploration of Venice often hinged on romantic ruin. Let’s consider the material composition: the visible techniques of layering ink, gouache and crayon actively erode any representational fixity, challenging traditional landscape art. Curator: It feels almost like a ghost of a place, doesn't it? All those splatters and scratchy lines—it’s a Venice remembered in fragments, or perhaps a Venice on the verge of disappearing. Editor: The Tate's records don't provide the specific date this was created. However, the artistic choices—the tension between decay and vibrancy—speak to a period grappling with postwar reconstruction and a renewed interest in historical preservation. Curator: Right, the act of preservation itself becomes part of the art. It makes you wonder what future generations will make of our own attempts to hold onto the past. Editor: Absolutely. The deliberate act of mark-making, the visible process, emphasizes the labor involved. It's a challenge to conventional notions of artistic genius. Curator: It certainly gives you something to ponder as you stroll through the gallery. Editor: Precisely, it invites consideration of our own roles in shaping, and being shaped by, the materiality of history.