Unwed Mother (first plate) 1909

Jean-Louis Forain etched "Unwed Mother" using delicate lines, capturing a hushed scene in shades of sepia. I imagine Forain, bent over the plate, the acid fumes tickling his nose as he coaxes these figures into existence, a tableau of sorrow emerging from the metal. Look at the lines that form the woman’s face, obscured by her hands, a universal gesture of grief. Her child peers out, a silent witness to her despair. And below, the somber figures, their bowed heads suggesting a burden of judgment or perhaps empathy. It reminds me of Käthe Kollwitz’s stark depictions of human suffering but with a Parisian twist. Forain’s lines are nervous, quick, and full of feeling, a bit like the way I approach a canvas. It’s a dance of intention and accident, each mark building upon the last. The mood is thick, heavy with unspoken words, echoing across time. And that’s the beauty of art, isn’t it? An ongoing conversation, artists speaking to one another through the ages, each adding their voice to the chorus.