San Marcoplein, Venetië before 1931

Etienne Bosch etched "San Marcoplein, Venetië," rendering the famed Venice square with subtle, almost whispered lines. The sepia tones give it that old-time feel, like a photograph faded by the sun, but there's something modern in the way Bosch embraces the imperfections. It’s less about documenting Venice and more about the act of seeing, of interpreting the space through a haze of lines. I’m drawn to the texture of the sky, the way Bosch suggests depth with these really delicate scratches. They’re not trying to fool you into thinking you're looking at clouds; they're just these marks, like whispers of form. And then you have these dense, cross-hatched areas describing the architecture. He builds the form, through a network of tiny, intentional marks, like thoughts accumulating over time. It feels a bit like a Whistler nocturne, capturing a fleeting moment, a mood more than a place. Art is so often about this kind of conversation, a passing of ideas across generations, filtered through individual experience and expression. Bosch invites us not just to look, but to linger, to question what we see, and how we see it.