Nach G. Dillis 1974

Editor: So this intaglio print, "Nach G. Dillis" by Horst Janssen from 1974, it has a sort of dreamlike quality. The etched lines create a complex landscape with figures both prominent and obscured. What symbolic language do you see at play here? Curator: I'm immediately struck by the layering of imagery. The portrait seems to emerge from the landscape, or perhaps the other way around? Think of the weight that landscapes carry in the German artistic tradition—a yearning for a lost or idealized past. What kind of emotional associations arise when you look at the figures perched precariously atop the forms in the work? Editor: They seem vulnerable, somehow insignificant against the grandeur or perhaps instability of the landscape around them. Is it meant to feel monumental? Curator: Precisely. Scale plays a key role in imbuing emotional meaning. Remember, symbols aren't static, their significance evolves. Janssen’s use of intaglio adds to this, don’t you think? Consider the historical context—Germany grappling with its identity post-war. How might the fragility of intaglio mirrors that collective cultural experience? Editor: So the figures could represent humanity’s precarious existence amidst historical turmoil? And the etching technique itself adds to that feeling of fragility? I never considered that! Curator: Exactly. It's like a visual echo of societal anxieties and our connection to history. These visual relationships and the use of memory can offer compelling narrative entry points. Editor: I’ll definitely keep a closer eye on the material and its relation to the subject matter. Thanks! Curator: Likewise, a very insightful starting perspective; I learned as well.