Haunting 1893 - 1894

Curator: What strikes you first about this work? To me, "Haunting," a lithograph by Odilon Redon, made somewhere between 1893 and 1894, whispers a delicate but pervasive unease. Editor: Unease is spot on. My initial impression is its spectral quality. The high contrast creates such a moody, dreamlike atmosphere. It's as if we are looking into somebody’s most secret thoughts, fears given form through the materials themselves. How does the method impact the message? Curator: That's insightful. Redon chose lithography specifically to harness those tonal gradations achievable through the process of layering crayon on stone. The charcoal strokes against the lithographic ink give texture to the ghosts that swim up into our mind. Each layer embodies the struggle to drag subconscious horrors into our vision. Editor: You can clearly see the imprint of that labor. How physical the work appears too—almost like geological strata building up into figuration. How do we even know where the pencil ends and paper begins. What are our impressions when that becomes visible, right in the body? Curator: What emerges, as you noted, feels deliberately unfixed, as if constantly verging on dissolving back into darkness. Notice the woman, a familiar Redon motif representing innocence, encircled by hovering symbols. Each drawn mark builds a stage where these phantoms might ensnare her—or are they a part of her psyche made external? Editor: Fascinating point, it's very much about boundaries: between interior and exterior, figure and ground, the physical act of production and our emotional response. You mention the woman being threatened—does she represent an allegory about creation being bound in this physical torment too? Curator: It's a thought. Redon once wrote, "My drawings inspire and do not define." Perhaps the haunting stems from the very act of symbolic creation, a confrontation with what dwells in the shadows before it takes on a visible form. I wonder if "Haunting" reflects his own inner turmoil. Editor: Perhaps, yes. Seeing the traces of labor is one thing but the actual emotions conjured… This piece lingers, revealing the burden of expression through materials. The stark contrast leaves a resonance I wasn't expecting, the same way Redon once hoped his "asma" would stay long after his visit to Earth was complete.