Place St. Louis, Metz 1924

Louis Conrad Rosenberg made "Place St. Louis, Metz" using etching, and I bet it felt like carefully coaxing a memory into being. Look at the cross hatching, all those tiny, intentional scratches – like whispers building into a low hum. I’m imagining Rosenberg standing there, squinting a little, trying to capture not just the buildings, but the light as it bounces off the square, the people bustling about their day. It's like he's building the scene out of thin air, one delicate line at a time. I can almost feel the metal plate, the acid biting in, the anticipation of pulling that first print. It reminds me of Piranesi, all those detailed architectural prints, but with a softer touch, a more personal feel. And just like with Piranesi, I wonder: what does it mean to build a world, line by line, and then invite others to wander through it? It's a conversation, across time and mediums, about how we see, how we remember, and how we make sense of the spaces we inhabit.