Jean-Louis Forain conjured this scene at the theater, not with paint but through etching, a dance of acid and metal. Imagine him, hunched over the plate, pushing that needle, line by line. These aren't just marks; they're whispers, anxieties, fleeting glances, like a blurry memory of a night at the theater. The way Forain suggests the crowd, the stage, the backs of heads—it’s like a shorthand for the electric charge of a public gathering. The cross-hatching is so thick, it almost feels like you could run your fingers over it and feel the texture of the moment. I feel like he's showing us the watchers rather than the watched. I get it. What is it that Degas said? Art is not what you see, but what you make others see. And Forain is showing us seeing. Forain’s etching isn't just about depicting a scene; it's about capturing a feeling. A feeling that echoes through time, connecting him to us, and us to him. Artists are always doing that, keeping the conversation flowing. And that conversation is never really over.
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