Mule Driver n.d.

Editor: Here we have "Mule Driver," an etching by Mariano Fortuny, date unknown. It’s a rather small print, and the subject’s face is hidden in shadow. He looks rather… spectral, doesn’t he? What's your take on this etching? Curator: Spectral is a lovely word for it! To me, the magic lies in the 'n.d.' – not dated. It floats, you see? Untethered. Like a half-remembered dream. It whispers of old Spain, where Fortuny danced with light, yet here… here he wrestles with darkness, the soul of a common laborer exposed through sheer graphic brevity. What do you feel about the sketchy, almost frantic, linework? Editor: It definitely adds to that sense of unease and hidden details! The rough lines give him texture, almost making you wonder what his story might be. What do you think Fortuny wanted to explore about this working man through the etching medium? Curator: Ah, perhaps less explore and more *conjure*. Etching, with its biting acid and yielding plate, allowed him to exhume a raw truth absent from his more polished works. I sense a sympathy, even an envy, for the man's grit. I imagine him seeing a bit of his own creative struggle in this anonymous driver. The unseen labor… do you feel that at all? Editor: I didn't, but I think I see what you mean. It's there in those frenzied lines— the toil, the weight… Thank you! It brings a new layer of thoughtfulness to a seemingly simple piece. Curator: Indeed. The man’s rough life has marked him, the printmaker marking his own copper plate as he considers such hardships, such lives. Now, isn't that food for thought?