Narcissus 1956

This print, Narcissus, by Leonard Edmondson, feels like it emerged from a dream, maybe even a nightmare. Looking at it, I imagine Edmondson in his studio, wrestling with the plate, digging in, wiping away, coaxing these strange, evocative forms into being. I mean, what is Narcissus really seeing in that pool? It's like he's conjuring the depths of his own psyche. The blacks are so rich and dense, like tar, and then these flashes of red and green – jolts of color that electrify the whole composition. There’s a real sense of depth, as if the artist is excavating the surface, peeling back layers to reveal something hidden. There’s a conversation happening here, I think, between Edmondson and the old masters, a kind of dialogue across time, like painters do. It's a beautiful mess, really, full of doubt and discovery, and that's what makes it so compelling.