Cliff near Dieppe 1885

Editor: So, this is Gauguin's "Cliff near Dieppe," painted in 1885, in oil. It feels so heavy with the weight of the cliff, but also loose and airy at the top. What strikes you about it? Curator: Oh, this one. It makes me think about being caught between worlds. Gauguin was so restless, wasn't he? Always searching for something just beyond reach, like those figures perched right on the edge of the cliff. Do you think they are thinking about jumping or maybe watching the sea? Editor: Watching the sea, I hope. It seems a little melancholic to think otherwise. Curator: True. There's something in those choppy brushstrokes, that grey-ish sky. It hints at the loneliness and grandeur that he probably felt facing nature, facing the unknown. Remember, this is just before his big Tahiti adventure... I bet these cliffs whispered of voyages and far-off dreams for him. Don't you feel like they want to drag you out? Editor: Definitely a hint of yearning there, the need for discovery, especially looking at how that dark mass of land points off to the right towards somewhere. Curator: It's not just a pretty postcard, is it? It's Gauguin wrestling with his soul in landscape form. But tell me, how does this play with your own "cliff," your own sense of adventure? Editor: Good point! Thinking about it, maybe I’m projecting. This might actually be about contentment, finding drama in the everyday. That is why the location is called Dieppe after all. Curator: See, now that's what I love! How art can show you all the secrets when you start to play and project, not just about the art itself but how your heart skips too. We get closer to the work the more we put into it. Editor: So true. It gives me a lot to think about in relation to Gauguin’s other works as well. Curator: Maybe Gauguin was hinting at that connection all along; that everything and everyone is connected somehow in ways we need art to see?