Untitled (A Train Through the Pass) 1936

This etching by William J. Scott captures a dramatic landscape with a lone rider, made with some kind of metal plate and acid, I imagine. The texture is incredible, created through dense, rhythmic lines that carve out the forms of the mountains and the sky. Look at how the light seems to ripple across the rocks, a constant back and forth. There is a sense of both meticulous planning and free-flowing spontaneity in the mark making. I'm drawn to the rider in the foreground, so small against the immensity of the landscape. It's like a little scribble that adds a layer of narrative mystery to the whole scene. Scott’s composition reminds me a little of some of the landscapes of Gustave Doré, that same sense of romantic awe and the sublime. Ultimately, this print invites us to contemplate our place within the vastness of nature, but also the way we make our mark.