Flying Geese 1873

Editor: So, this is Karl Bodmer’s “Flying Geese,” made in 1873. It’s an etching and print on paper, currently hanging in the Art Institute of Chicago. There's something almost wistful about it, a real sense of distance and journey. What draws you to this particular print? Curator: It's funny you say "wistful." To me, there’s a touch of wild hope woven in, wouldn't you say? Perhaps it's because of the direction, that relentless forward motion. See how the birds get smaller as they journey toward the horizon? The composition is remarkable. It draws my eye through space. It feels vast and expansive, and it does all this on such a small piece of paper. Think of the patience! How many marks went into creating that landscape below the geese! Do you see any horizon line in particular that separates land from sky? Editor: No, that is a great point. Now I can see how it isn't "wistful," the artist guides my eye upward into a very distant scene. But I almost missed that detail about the number of lines involved in generating the landscape! Curator: It almost disappears. As though all things return to the Earth. Also consider what 'flying geese' means, and all the ways artists have tried to represent flight through other media and in poetry! Flight here also symbolizes transition and perseverance. Every journey begins with one small step…or flap. Editor: It definitely changes how I see the artwork, and, especially, its symbolism! The sense of motion wasn't something I grasped right away either. It is incredible what a simple sketch can transmit. Thank you. Curator: Absolutely! And that's the magic, isn't it? To take a moment and transform it into a whole world. Art opens up and shows how to be carried in the current of now.