The Beach c. 1935

Editor: So, this is "The Beach," a woodcut print from around 1935 by Irving G. Lehman. It strikes me as almost unsettling, like a memory fragment of a seaside scene rather than a clear depiction. What symbolic language jumps out at you in this image? Curator: The high contrast, black and white rendering speaks volumes. Woodcut itself evokes a sense of immediacy and rawness. Notice how Lehman isn't simply representing the beach, but also a psychological space? The checkered patterns, the solid black shapes - what feelings do these visual elements stir? Editor: The patterns do give the image a fragmented, dreamlike quality. Is that a person in the middle? It's hard to tell. Curator: Yes, that figure becomes a focal point but also blurs with its surroundings, almost as if disappearing into the landscape. Do you see a parallel between the human form and, say, the sun, or the implied waves? Are they discrete or interrelated forms? Editor: Now that you point it out, the shapes are repeated and slightly distorted, like echoes. Does the abstraction amplify the feeling of isolation, perhaps? Curator: Precisely. Lehman seems less interested in accurately depicting a day at the beach and more in conveying a mood, an impression. Look closely at the abstract elements. Can you interpret some references beyond their aesthetic role? For example, does that black sun refer to any solar myth? Editor: That’s fascinating. It seems like the beach setting is a stage for exploring something deeper about the human condition. The solid black evokes almost the fear of a solar eclipse...I see how visual motifs function like keys in memory. Curator: Indeed. It prompts us to look beneath the surface, recognizing shared human experiences, emotions, and psychological imprints within a seemingly simple image. We have traveled together on the symbolic side of the beach, haven't we? Editor: Definitely, seeing how Lehman uses imagery to build shared meanings really shifted my understanding. Thank you!