The Dawn of Creation c. 1830s

Curator: Here we have Samuel Jackson's "The Dawn of Creation," a work dating from the 1830s, rendered primarily in charcoal and graphite. Editor: The title is quite fitting. My first impression is a primordial scene. The charcoal and graphite blend together beautifully creating this rather stark and evocative depiction of... well, something ancient and emerging. Curator: Indeed. Jackson, though perhaps not as widely known as some of his contemporaries, was very much engaged with the Romantic movement. Notice how this vista taps into that sensibility. Editor: The sheer scale feels significant. The darkness pressing in on that pale, luminous sun, or moon, certainly suggests the sublime, that feeling of awe tinged with fear that the Romantics so cherished. Is it hope or dread in that nascent dawn? Curator: Both, I suspect. It’s that tension between light and shadow that defines the image. He's playing with geological time scales, too, juxtaposing this fleeting moment of dawn with the enduring presence of the mountains. He is saying something of that historical perspective. Editor: The jagged peaks remind me of drawings of scientific studies to record newfound species; everything is newly forming out of the darkness. It’s a land yet unwritten, still available. But there’s also something melancholy in the starkness. Is it hopeful? Or a reminder of the ephemerality of it all? Curator: Perhaps Jackson himself was grappling with these questions as the Industrial Revolution was transforming the British landscape so drastically. Pictures like this, could be interpreted as a visual lament for a lost Eden, maybe. Editor: Or a premonition. Looking at this piece in today’s context of our ever-accelerating climate catastrophes, its bleakness carries a prophetic resonance, which resonates across nearly two centuries. A humbling sight, and, perhaps, a call to a bit more reflection. Curator: I agree. "The Dawn of Creation" offers, more than merely a scenic view.