War! Peace Peace c. 1940

Curator: Immediately, I'm struck by the dramatic chiaroscuro, the stark contrasts amplifying the emotional tension. Editor: Agreed, and there's a rawness, an almost violent energy in the lines. It feels like a dreamscape, or maybe a nightmare, something deeply personal yet universally unsettling. Curator: We are looking at "War! Peace Peace," a circa 1940 engraving by Karl Wiener, whose blend of abstract expressionism attempts to render something of the allegory of war and peace through an unlikely fusion of cityscape, portraiture and symbolism. Note how he integrates graphic elements into the overall compositional scheme. Editor: That face at the bottom... almost regal in its composure, despite the chaos erupting around her. Is she blindfolded or just…detached? Those tears of turquoise...and the juxtaposition of war and peace sprayed on the buildings; it feels deeply cynical. It speaks to the period it was created, the start of something really terrible, I think. Curator: The engraving technique is particularly noteworthy; Wiener employs dense, almost frenetic cross-hatching to build up shadows, contributing to the work’s anxious atmosphere. I read those falling marks in the upper register, literally, as bomb tracks, and structurally as lines suggesting a total systemic collapse of order. Note also the red flag; its compositional counterweight finds its twin in the 'moon-meteor', visually linking war and destruction across dimensions and space. Editor: Maybe she's an allegorical figure, Mother Courage, perhaps. Or just humanity, caught between ideals and devastation. Wiener offers no easy answers here; it's the kind of work that lingers in your mind, raising more questions than it resolves. There is that wonderful image, too, of a clock, forever frozen just before the hour… Curator: Quite right. The temporal suspension is crucial. By arresting that unfolding moment he structurally reinforces a thematic circularity which allows a constant reversion back to the horrors of war. Time itself stops, to recycle, again, for worse. It’s rather profound, if bleak. Editor: It is bleak. A real piece of the era and artist’s soul etched into… well, reality, of a certain kind. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it, what future we’re etching now.