The Last Hole - P.C.C. 1936

Curator: Right, let's talk about "The Last Hole - P.C.C." This sketch was created in 1936 by Donald Carlisle Greason, using pencil and graphite. Editor: Oh, this is beautifully simple! I love the bare bones quality. It feels like a fleeting moment captured, a wisp of memory more than a solid depiction. Curator: Precisely! Greason has rendered this almost dreamlike landscape with quick, light strokes. You can almost feel the quiet of the scene. It’s essentially a golfing landscape featuring a lone figure. Editor: A solitary figure dwarfed by the suggestion of nature… he seems utterly alone and yet comfortably immersed in this liminal space. He could be Sisyphus pushing that rock, or a modern take on the 'wanderer' motif we see time and again. What about the symbol of "hole"? The conclusion? The end of something? Curator: Interesting idea! The symbolic nature of "hole" as a point of both entering and exiting could carry some depth. The title hints at an ending, a completion perhaps. But I like your reference to wandering as a meditation of passage. What resonates for me are the lines that mimic golf-swinging, repeated curves like invisible pathways; it speaks to perseverance, and the continuous quest for perfection, whether it be in sport, life, or even the creation of art itself. Editor: Hmm, I get that. Yet, the entire scene is bathed in soft light, evoking tranquility rather than that striving for perfection you speak of. The absence of vivid detail only adds to this sensation of peace, almost resignation. Maybe it’s more a memento mori, than a sport's game. A celebration of presence that is soon to vanish. Curator: Perhaps it's both? Maybe Greason, consciously or not, was encapsulating that quiet struggle. Now, with only thin graphite lines, Greason leaves a quiet echo. What else do you see, beyond just what is drawn, or isn't? Editor: I feel like it's a perfect depiction of solitude. A quiet meditation on what's left to accomplish or how the best achievement happens through play and contemplation. Thanks for the background, that context shifts everything again.