Wild Geese 1936

Editor: So here we have Richard Evett Bishop's 1936 etching and drypoint, *Wild Geese*. It gives me this immediate feeling of expansive freedom, but there's also something stark and graphic about it. What strikes you most about this print? Curator: Oh, that "V" formation, the very architecture of migration! You know, I see these geese as carrying not just themselves, but stories, memories of landscapes far beyond our little gallery walls. Each wingbeat echoes with a silent narrative. I can almost hear their calls, can’t you? It's a kind of beautiful loneliness, soaring above it all. What do you make of the limited palette, the tonal range he employs? Editor: I find the stark contrast interesting. It's not overtly colorful, but somehow still vivid. Curator: Exactly! He distills the essence of flight, doesn't he? Imagine him, squinting against the sun, sketching rapidly as the skein passes overhead. What emotions do you feel looking at this work, besides that sense of freedom you mentioned? Editor: A bit of melancholy, I think. They're going somewhere, and I'm staying here. Curator: Ah, a universal human experience: that pull between belonging and the allure of the unknown. Perhaps Bishop captured that very tension in this work! Thanks, [Editor's Name], for helping me look at it in new light. Editor: Thanks for sharing your perspective! I'll never look at geese the same way.