Méduse et trainée verte 

Editor: So, we're looking at Jules Schmalzigaug’s “Méduse et trainée verte,” done with pastel chalk. The energy is pretty chaotic, lots of swirling colors against this intense black backdrop. How do you interpret this work? Curator: It's a powerful expression of Futurism. Consider the sociopolitical context of pre-WWI Europe. Futurism, born in Italy, glorified dynamism, speed, technology—a rejection of the past and embrace of a machine-age future. Do you see that reflected here, beyond just the swirling lines? Editor: I see how the upward movement could represent forward momentum. But a jellyfish, and its "green trail"—that seems a bit… biological for a movement so into machines? Curator: Precisely! That tension is key. Schmalzigaug was attempting to integrate the organic with the mechanical. What does that juxtaposition suggest to you about his anxieties or hopes for the future? Maybe it is a rejection of what industrialism does to the organic environment? Editor: I hadn't thought of it like that. It's like he's showing the beauty and terror of this rapidly changing world all at once. The jellyfish, this fragile thing, caught in a whirlwind of progress... or destruction. Curator: Exactly! The black backdrop itself underscores this tension. It’s both the void from which creation bursts and the darkness of an uncertain future. How does considering these elements change your initial feeling of "chaos"? Editor: It feels more deliberate now, more like controlled chaos, a statement. It isn't just random colors thrown around—it’s a complex visual argument about the direction society was heading. Thanks; I now have much more nuanced view of the period. Curator: My pleasure. Thinking critically about the relationship between the artist, artwork, and the wider world helps us understand both the art and ourselves more deeply.