St. Johns River, New Brunswick, Canada 1951

Editor: So, here we have John Marin’s pencil drawing, "St. Johns River, New Brunswick, Canada," from 1951. It feels like a quick sketch, almost ephemeral. What catches your eye when you look at this piece? Curator: It whispers of immediacy, doesn't it? Like Marin just stopped, pulled out his sketchbook, and captured the soul of the place. For me, it’s the quiet confidence of the line. The landscape is distilled to its bare essence. Notice how he doesn't try to give us every detail, just enough to evoke the feeling of the river and the Canadian landscape. It's a memory caught on paper, I think. It's intimate, isn't it? A fleeting moment. What do you make of his marks there at the bottom? Editor: They seem kind of haphazard, almost scribbles. Curator: Perhaps, or maybe they are shorthand for the scrubby riverbank growth? To me they hint at his larger work as an abstractionist – a dance between representation and suggestion. Think about his watercolors, for example; they're the same impulse but expanded, electrified with color! I wonder if Marin, standing there, felt a chill wind or the warmth of the sun, and if he could anticipate the effect his drawing would have, even a small sketch, to give a similar, deeply embodied memory. Editor: That's interesting. It makes me see those 'scribbles' as full of potential, not just random marks. The entire sketch feels like it contains all the essential information that creates that space. Curator: Exactly. It reminds me that sometimes less truly *is* more. Maybe it’s about seeing the world distilled, and our memories work in similar ways too? A collection of highlights which create an entire world!