Male of Sorrows #5, state II 1970

Curator: Barbara Rossi's "Male of Sorrows #5, state II" from 1970 presents a curious blend of abstraction and figuration rendered in print and drawing with what appears to be watercolor washes. What's your take as you look at this work? Editor: Hmm, first impression? It's…unsettling. Melancholy for sure, despite the almost comical presentation. It's like a beautiful, faded circus of despair. The pale pink washes give it this ghostly feel, like a memory slowly dissolving. Curator: Interesting that you latch onto the 'ghostly' aspect. I think that speaks to the layered process here. Looking closely, we can appreciate the hand of the artist—evident in the application of washes to accentuate contours and the labor involved to render so much intricate linework. Consider how these choices move away from strict high art traditions. Editor: Absolutely. It feels handmade, you know? Like she’s wrestling with something personal, some inner turmoil made manifest through line and pigment. I love that it’s not slick or perfect, but raw, immediate. It’s awkward beauty. Curator: Indeed. And 'awkward' may be the point, echoing the title. If we consider Rossi's place in the Chicago Imagists scene, we can read this not just as an isolated outpouring, but as engaging in a larger dialogue on representing human experience. It challenges classical ideals and disrupts consumerism by favoring her individual vision. Editor: You can see it, can't you? That raw nerve exposed. The abstraction allows her to skirt around specific emotions and let them fester under the surface of caricature. I'm suddenly drawn in to that tension between humor and horror. Curator: Yes! And those tentacles sprouting at the base of its head might make one wonder if they are coming in or are they out. Editor: Good eye. It's that dance with disquieting imagery which is its magnetic force, which makes you sit up, pay attention. Curator: For me, it's been so gratifying to understand Rossi's perspective and engage with her complex approach to artmaking and, now, with your visceral interpretation. Editor: Thanks! This one, well, it stays with you, doesn’t it? I guess that's what makes it so great.