And in Her Mouth was an Olive Leaf 1955

Fritz Eichenberg made this print, And in Her Mouth was an Olive Leaf, using wood engraving. Look at the density of marks, the way he uses all this cross-hatching to create a sense of light. I find myself wondering how he managed to control the material so well. It’s quite a process. The image is so full of animals, piled on top of each other in this dark, enclosed space. The animals are rendered in so much rich detail, yet there's a roughness to the marks that adds to the work’s emotional impact. It's almost claustrophobic. My eye keeps going back to the dove at the top, carrying that olive branch, a symbol of hope and renewal. That small white bird, against all this black, it’s like a promise. Eichenberg's work reminds me of other printmakers, like Kathe Kollwitz, who used the medium to explore themes of social justice and human suffering. But in Eichenberg, there's a sense of optimism. In both cases, art becomes a space for reflection and dialogue, where ambiguity and multiple interpretations are embraced.