The Press 1878

Editor: Felicien Rops’s "The Press", an etching from 1878, feels chaotic! So many little figures crammed into one small space, all tumbling and swirling around what looks like printing equipment. What’s your take on this visual circus? Curator: Ah, "The Press," it's a delicious romp, isn't it? It reminds me of a particularly mischievous dream after too much absinthe. These aren’t just random cherubs; they're impish personifications of the artistic process, battling, I think, with the demands and the delights of creation. See how some wrestle with the large wooden ‘X’? That to me speaks to the struggle of art-making. And the woman calmly perched above it all, perhaps she represents inspiration, ever elusive, ever judging? Editor: So, less "orderly workshop" and more "metaphorical mayhem"? What about the two bottles labelled "Eau Fortes" – does it have anything to do with the process? Curator: Precisely! 'Eaux-Fortes' translates to 'etching' in French; they seem almost comically oversized, as if to underline their fundamental role. But, also, to suggest the power—or perhaps the volatile nature—of these substances in the creation of art. Everything from the flying cherubs, to the tools of creation, contributes to Rops’ fever dream of artmaking. It's a tongue-in-cheek portrait, wouldn’t you agree? Editor: Absolutely, there's a definite sense of humor! I didn't quite catch that at first. This feels like Rops' private joke. Curator: Exactly! It’s the artist's world seen through a darkly comic lens. We’ve both journeyed a little further into Rops' anarchic print shop today. Now I’m feeling the urge to run amok in a print studio myself! Editor: Haha! Same here! I guess that's the beauty of art, isn’t it? It invites you in and messes with your perception.