St. Mary's River, Georgia 1964

Curator: Here we have Ivan Albright's "St. Mary's River, Georgia," a striking acrylic on canvas from 1964. It really shows off a specific approach to landscape painting. Editor: It does! My initial impression is a sense of brooding energy, like a storm just passed, leaving that strange, unsettling stillness in its wake. Curator: Interesting take. Albright seems to have used visible, almost hurried brushstrokes to depict the water's surface. The deliberate layering and mixing of the acrylic creates both depth and a tangible texture. I wonder how readily available were such materials in the rural South in the early 60's, for instance. Editor: Definitely not your traditional, idyllic landscape. There’s a rawness here. Those trees feel almost skeletal, reaching out with these frantic, scraggly branches. It's captivatingly strange; this artwork feels more like a psychological exploration than a topographical rendering, even a rather subjective vision. Curator: Right. And while it’s presented as a landscape, it also rejects that notion through the expressionist style, defying expectations around the depiction of place. Editor: Precisely! Look how the light plays. Those almost-white streaks against the dark water—they evoke a feeling of almost violent illumination. It's not peaceful but a jolt. It certainly avoids a more polished or commercialized interpretation of nature and landscape. Curator: Indeed. Albright invites us to consider the social context of art making and how the medium itself—acrylic, rather than traditional oils, shapes our understanding of place. The somewhat rough application lends a certain working-class feel too, a rawness you mentioned, moving far from the tradition of, say, Hudson River School landscape painting and its romantic view of the American landscape. Editor: Yes! This is an experience, not just a view. Thanks, Albright, for reminding us nature doesn't always equal peace, and landscapes can carry just as many emotions as a portrait. Curator: Thank you for those insights, I am struck at the material agency embedded here. It makes one question all those divisions and labor traditions associated to landscape, painting, and acrylic itself, perhaps.