Horses' Rest c. 1885

Editor: Giovanni Fattori's etching, "Horses' Rest," circa 1885. There's a stillness to this piece, even a touch of melancholy, that comes from these tired animals under a vast sky. The limited detail focuses all the attention on the two subjects, while they occupy such a massive plane of earth. What do you see when you look at this work? Curator: The silence really strikes me, too. You know, Fattori was a master of capturing the *everyday* lives of animals and rural people, and this is a perfect example. He wasn't interested in grand battles, more so a moment of reprieve from a hard day’s work. It almost feels… biblical in its starkness and purity. The blank negative space surrounding the horses turns them into monuments, if only for themselves. Doesn't the rough, etched line work contribute to that feeling? Editor: Absolutely! It's like he's scratching away at something essential. But monuments to *what* exactly? Just work? Or is there something more there? Curator: Perhaps it’s to perseverance? Or quiet resilience in the face of endless cycles. Look closely; the way he etches the landscape hints at both barrenness and endurance. Those two horses embody the spirit of the every-person and all of our collective struggles to survive. To toil away and simply find small comforts for your body. What’s your sense of it? Editor: I see that now. Their fatigue makes them seem almost heroic in their simplicity. This piece almost pulls you back in time, a real silent meditation! Thanks for shedding light on that. Curator: My pleasure! It reminds me to consider my work today with some equine grace. Maybe I'll even go find myself a big field for a long nap this afternoon.