River Hare 2012

Curator: Immediately, the whole thing feels… airborne. Floating, even, against this muted sky. Editor: We're looking at "River Hare," a 2012 print by Giuliana Lazzerini, using woodcut on paper. Curator: It's the colors, too. That gentle blue fighting for dominance with the raw umber, like dawn after a restless dream. There's this bold, almost violent leaping hare, though – dark as sin – mid-flight over what appears to be a floral meadow. Editor: The textures from the woodcut really add to the material narrative. You can practically feel the grain in the paper. There’s a roughness, an earthiness that belies the subject matter, this fleeting hare bounding through an ethereal space. Curator: I find this print unsettling but beautiful; I want to decipher the hare’s desperation to escape, but its trajectory looks awkward, which amplifies its odd charm. It’s also so…primitive, reminiscent of folk art. Editor: It’s intriguing to consider this folk-art aspect in the context of printmaking, which, of course, carries its own complicated history concerning labor and mass production. Here, Lazzerini combines something deeply traditional with those associations. Curator: It definitely possesses a charm that softens the harsh edges. Like a memory re-imagined as a fairy tale—a touch menacing but mostly innocent. What stays with you, really, is that tension, that inherent battle for harmony. Editor: Absolutely. Thinking about Lazzerini's choices regarding process and imagery prompts me to examine how meaning itself is constructed layer upon layer, much like a woodcut. Curator: Yes, something about the printmaking aspect echoes the inherent layers in dreams as well. Thanks for opening up new perspectives. Editor: It was wonderful examining it with you—materiality and dreamy introspection. It makes for such compelling artwork.