Copper Beech, Stourhead 1983

Editor: So, this is Fay Godwin's "Copper Beech, Stourhead" from 1983, a gelatin silver print. It’s really quite stark – bare branches mirrored in water. It gives me a somewhat melancholic feeling. What do you see in it? Curator: I'm struck by the mirroring, the doubling. The real and the reflected. Water often serves as a potent symbol, wouldn’t you agree? In art and culture, it has many significations – transformation, the unconscious, the cyclical nature of life and death. Editor: Definitely. It feels very deliberate here, not just a pretty reflection. It's almost like Godwin is intentionally blurring the lines between what's solid and what's transient. Curator: Precisely! Notice how the bare branches reach downwards, almost like grasping hands. It creates an unsettling effect, drawing attention to our mortality. The lack of leaves signifies winter, death and endings. It resonates with themes of loss, something Godwin explored often in her work, as many viewed it a response to the quickly changing British landscape of that time. Do you find the tonal range reinforces that feeling? Editor: Yes, the muted tones definitely amplify the mood, giving it a timeless quality. The limited dynamic range almost blurs the boundary between the two realms. How interesting. Curator: Indeed. What I'm reminded of most is how the artist utilises simple stark imagery to convey a wealth of personal and collective memories. This photo is more than just a record, it's an echo. Editor: I see what you mean. There’s something haunting and profound here beyond the simple reflection of trees. I’ll never look at a reflection the same way again. Curator: And isn't that the point of art: to shift perspective and stir something within us?