Silver Mine 1933

Arnold Rönnebeck's 'Silver Mine' is a print, and I’m immediately drawn to the way he's built this scene out of tiny, meticulous marks. It's like he's patiently building up the world, bit by bit, with an almost obsessive dedication. The whole image shimmers with tonal variation. The hills, the buildings, the sky – everything is rendered in these subtly modulated shades of grey. Up close, you can see the density of marks vary, creating a kind of tactile surface. Look at the way he uses hatching to define the contours of those mounds of earth. It gives them a solid, weighty presence, like you could reach out and touch them. I'm reminded of the work of Charles Sheeler, another artist who found beauty in industrial landscapes. Yet, Rönnebeck's touch feels more intimate, more personal somehow. This piece invites us to slow down, to really see the world around us, and to appreciate the beauty that can be found even in the most unexpected places.