The Fall Of Lucifer 1933

Curator: Cecil Collins's "The Fall of Lucifer," a large, undated painting in the Tate collection, presents a captivating scene of celestial conflict. Editor: My first thought is...it's wonderfully unsettling. That descending figure against the ominous sky – it feels like a primal scream rendered in paint. Curator: The composition is divided into distinct registers, from the serene angels above to the battle unfolding below, creating a visual hierarchy. Editor: I love how the angels are all slender bodies and blank stares, they are devoid of any emotion, while the rebellious angels seem to be full of it. Curator: Yes, the use of contrasting colors and textures accentuates this duality, and the formal geometry is in every shape. Editor: It is a dark fairytale, I feel a sense of doom looking at it, the end of everything maybe. Curator: Indeed, Collins's exploration of light and shadow adds a potent layer of meaning to this timeless story of rebellion and consequence. Editor: Ultimately, it's a reminder that even in paradise, there's always a little bit of chaos waiting to break loose.