Edge 1965

Curator: Here we have Nathan Oliveira's "Edge," a 1965 lithograph. The monochromatic landscape pulls you in, doesn't it? Editor: It does! At first glance, it's bleak—an isolated landmass stark against the abyss. But the more I look, the more complex the texture is, almost geological. What's going on with that central form—is that a rising moon, or what? Curator: Oliveira often explored the concept of liminal spaces, thresholds. Lithography, of course, involves working with a stone—a pretty intimate material relationship to create what feels almost otherworldly here. Editor: It’s really interesting thinking about how a stone creates that atmosphere. Lithography is a demanding process—think of the time spent grinding, drawing, etching, and then finally printing. Curator: I get a distinct sense of melancholy, but also, perhaps, possibility. Look at that stark white moon, or is it setting? Or neither? He leaves it entirely open. A lonely, haunting edge where what WAS meets what could be. Editor: That solitary ‘moon,’ juxtaposed against that landscape forged from stone… there's a tension there between natural resources and astronomical beauty. All that work creates a stark image. It raises a kind of subtle, political question, about exploitation, and extraction, doesn’t it? Curator: Yes. "Edge," indeed. He asks us to consider where the known gives way. Where comfort disappears. Editor: Makes me think differently about land itself as both resource and symbolic location. All those layers embedded in the lithograph... so much more than a landscape view.