Little Italy 1911

Bror Julius Olsson Nordfeldt made this etching, probably in the early 20th century. It’s called “Little Italy,” and the first thing that strikes me is the overall tone, like a memory fading into sepia. I can almost imagine Nordfeldt standing on a busy street corner, squinting at the light as he sketched the people milling about. The ink feels thin, almost watery, like he was trying to capture a fleeting moment. See how the figures are just suggested, not really defined? It gives the whole scene a sense of movement, of life happening. The scratches and scribbles of the etching create this impression of a place in transition. It’s a scene of everyday life, rendered with a kind of affectionate ambiguity. Nordfeldt isn't making a grand statement, but rather inviting us to pause and appreciate the beauty in the ordinary. Like other etchers such as Whistler, he draws us into an intimate engagement with the city, revealing his own perspective. And that's what art's about, right? A conversation across time, where each artist adds their own voice to the mix.