Florence 1907

Ernest D. Roth’s "Florence" is like a love letter etched in ink, probably made sometime in the early 20th century. You can almost feel him there, squinting in the Italian sun, trying to capture the weight of those ancient stones. I imagine him, totally absorbed, going back and forth between the subject and the plate, losing himself in the details, maybe even muttering to himself about the perfect angle. Look at the intricate lines defining those buildings perched along the river – the details of the windows and walls convey the texture of history. The way he uses light and shadow gives the whole scene a dreamy, timeless feel. It reminds me of Piranesi's architectural prints, but with a softer touch. Roth's got this incredible ability to make a static scene feel alive, buzzing with the energy of a city that’s seen it all. And that's the thing about art, right? It's all one big conversation, across centuries, across mediums, where we just keep borrowing and riffing off each other, trying to make sense of this crazy world.