Nettleton's Mill 1943

William Sylvester Gamble’s “Nettleton’s Mill” is a monochromatic print, where every mark feels deliberate, carved out of the block with careful attention. I imagine Gamble standing over this block, methodically scraping away at the surface. The image emerges slowly, bit by bit, as if he’s coaxing it into existence. Look at the smokestacks – they're not just standing there; they’re alive, breathing, their plumes swirling and blending into the sky. There’s something about the contrasts that gets me. The way he plays with light and shadow, creating depth, yet flattening the scene at the same time. You feel the weight of the industrial landscape, but also its fragility, a kind of vulnerability. It reminds me of other artists, like the German Expressionists, who used woodcuts to convey raw emotion, but Gamble's got his own thing going on. You know, as artists we’re all in conversation with each other. We’re constantly borrowing, stealing, and reinterpreting ideas, trying to make sense of the world around us, and this print really speaks to that.