The Somme Front 1917

Editor: Here we have James McBey's 1917 etching, "The Somme Front." It's incredibly stark, the landscape barren and skeletal. What do you see in this piece? Curator: It's a powerful indictment of war. McBey’s “The Somme Front” isn’t just a landscape; it's a documentation of trauma inflicted upon both land and body, reflecting the collapse of civility. Note how the composition focuses on the devastation: the skeletal trees, the churned earth. Editor: There's a real sense of absence. Like a landscape without hope. Curator: Exactly. Consider too, when and by whom this was made. World War I fundamentally altered the sociopolitical landscape. Male identity was, in many cases, intrinsically linked to the call of duty, to the glory of combat. And we have artists grappling with a new understanding of bodily integrity and masculinity by the end of this catastrophic event. Who are these bodies obscured or missing? Whose story is elided in this 'realist' presentation? Editor: So the starkness is more than just visual, it's commenting on broader social ideas too. How can the visual, this devastated terrain, contribute to these questions? Curator: It critiques the narratives propagated by those in power during wartime. The idea of duty, of bravery. There's very little glory apparent here, is there? Just raw desolation, and a critical deconstruction of established social tenets, especially ideas about war and gender. Consider it a conscious disruption. Do you agree? Editor: I think it disrupts that old guard entirely; it demands a reimagining of what "heroism" means, and what price is too high. The landscape is literally screaming that there is an exorbitant price, and we continue to perpetuate the myth. Thank you - a landscape is never *just* a landscape, I suppose. Curator: Precisely. And by examining art like McBey's through an intersectional lens, we gain access to some very complex and significant societal critiques.