The Cards (Les Cartes) 1903

This print, *The Cards*, by Jacques Villon, seems like it was etched, or bitten into existence, line by line. The ochre hues and delicate lines pull us into a world of leisure. You can imagine Villon, hunkered over the plate, pushing and pulling, scraping away to find the lines that might conjure the scene, a woman reclining amongst scattered playing cards, her dog alert at her side. I think he was searching for a way to capture the feeling of a languid afternoon, where time stretches out like an elastic band. Look how the thin, wiry lines of the woman’s dress suggest movement and form, they are so lightly rendered, it’s like Villon wanted to keep it open, suspended in time. The cards at her side seem tossed without a thought, a testament to the fact that time has slowed to a stop. The artist is in conversation with other artists, riffing off the tradition of depicting leisure. Each line is a decision, a negotiation between the seen and the felt. Art-making is always that, an exploration of possibilities that embraces the ambiguity and uncertainty of seeing.