The Shadow of Night 1985

Curator: Here we have Robert Qualters' 1985 mixed-media painting, "The Shadow of Night." Editor: Whoa, it's... intense. Visually overwhelming but in a good way. My first thought goes to those little figures. Something very melancholic about their posture. It’s a rainy street corner, isn’t it? Curator: Yes, Qualters masterfully captures a nighttime scene in what seems to be an urban landscape, perhaps a neighborhood in Pittsburgh. There are buildings, people waiting for the bus…but what is more captivating is that heavy feeling looming over everything, as the title aptly describes it. Editor: The light itself feels symbolic. Notice how he plays with artificial light versus the fading daylight... streetlight shining through rain. Even the bus windows seem to glow with contained stories. All framed by that almost oppressive sky. But the buildings aren't devoid of symbolism, either, the brick buildings exude almost palpable gravitas. What could it mean? Curator: Possibly he reflects the impermanence and transient moments in everyday life. He mixes elements of realism with expressionism, distorting the scene with gestural brushstrokes, giving it almost a dreamlike quality, wouldn’t you agree? It looks more like the interpretation of a memory, less like pure visual fact. The cityscape almost carries the weight of individual experience. Editor: Absolutely. And the border—it’s almost like the decorative framework of a memory. He included little snippets of text, little notes that resemble diary entries... "Forward to Squirrel Hill" for example. So you can really appreciate that cyclical sensation of a collective experience being channeled through individual recollections, through private memories. It feels so…familiar, but unsettling at the same time. Curator: Beautifully put. Editor: It is curious how through this seemingly simple street view, Qualters has offered a potent meditation on memory, and how light shapes perception of even familiar urban environments. Curator: I agree; it almost acts as a conduit, and makes one aware of one's own inner narrative as part of something greater, a larger continuum...it reminds me of life itself, that at night, in retrospect, with the burden of the day, all seems somehow... heavy.