Jackson Hole, Wyoming 1973

Curator: Ivan Albright painted this, watercolor on canvas, in 1973, entitled "Jackson Hole, Wyoming." Editor: Woah, dreamy. It looks like you could step right into it and everything would be hushed and glowy. Sort of otherworldly, but familiar, like a pleasant half-remembered dream. Curator: Yes, Albright manipulates the medium quite deftly to evoke a very palpable sense of atmosphere. Note the layering and blurring; that evokes atmospheric perspective. Editor: It feels humid but not sticky? The peaks of those mountains are softened, almost blushing. The color palette is also unusual for a landscape--lots of fleshy pinks. Curator: Exactly. The composition, with its high horizon line and large expanse of field, places emphasis on the textural variation. See how the fluid strokes create rhythm and guide the eye? Editor: I do. There's a kind of vibrant, almost electric hum to it. But again, mellow. I can smell the dry grass, feel the sun. Curator: Albright was quite known for using light to imbue his subjects with a particular psychological weight, especially his later work. Editor: Yeah, there's a contemplative weightlessness. I mean it. That tiny airplane looks as if the land exhaled it into the sky, like a dandelion seed riding the wind. And everything--those clouds and mountains—feels alive but hushed. Curator: An excellent point. This sense of vitalism, along with the strategic ambiguity in the forms, elevates what might be a simple landscape to a commentary on perception and reality itself. Editor: It definitely takes you out of reality for a minute, though. Gets you thinking. Maybe it's about impermanence--the painting is both solid and seems about to evaporate. Or maybe, I am just hungry. Curator: Well, thank you for sharing that with us. It always remains stimulating to witness art from different perspectives. Editor: Likewise! Thanks for grounding me. A landscape like this might carry me off, otherwise!