Promenade 1902

Edgar Chahine made this print called "Promenade" sometime in the late 19th or early 20th century. It’s at the Art Institute of Chicago. The whole thing is in this delicate range of grays, achieved through etching. You can almost feel the artist leaning in, scratching away at the plate, coaxing this scene into being line by line. I wonder what Chahine was thinking as he worked. Maybe about the fleeting nature of social life, the way wealth and status put people on display like this. Look at the driver’s posture, stiff and proper, versus the soft fur of the woman’s wrap. Did he see something sad or beautiful or absurd in these contrasts? What I love about prints is the way an artist can play with atmosphere, using these light, feathery lines to give us the feeling of a place, a time, a mood, and then it goes into the world to be seen by anyone. Like he’s chatting to us across time.