Traffic Face c. 1970

Dorothy Stratton made this print, Traffic Face, by etching lines into a plate, wiping away the excess ink, and pressing it onto paper. Look at the way she's built up this face, or figure, or mask, with layers of cross-hatching. It's like she's trying to find a form that's both solid and dissolving at the same time. I wonder what Stratton was thinking as she made those marks. Was she imagining the constant flow of traffic, the city's energy, or maybe the way we construct identities? There's something about the way the lines intersect and overlap that feels both chaotic and deliberate, like a jazz improvisation. And that little hand sticking out at the bottom—is it reaching out, or just hanging on for dear life? I see echoes of cubism and surrealism, but Stratton's got her own voice. It's a reminder that artists are always in conversation with each other, riffing on ideas and pushing the boundaries of what art can be.