The Wellington Racecourse in Drizzle (Ostende) 1888

Alfred William Finch captured the Wellington Racecourse, perhaps in Ostende, with strokes of divisionist fervor. Flags flutter atop the stands like ancient Roman vexilla, signaling not conquest but anticipation. The fence, a recurring motif, divides spectator from spectacle, mimicking boundaries found in early Greek amphorae depicting athletic contests. This fence appears again and again in art history, echoing through time. In medieval tapestries, fences demarcate sacred gardens, while in Renaissance paintings, they separate the earthly from the divine. Here, the fence evokes a psychological barrier, enhancing our yearning to merge with the scene's energy. Note the umbrellas, akin to protective shells, shielding figures from the drizzle. These canopies remind us of the primal need for shelter, an instinct that art taps into at a subconscious level. The racecourse, veiled in a misty Pointillist haze, invites us to contemplate how symbols persist, adapting to new eras, while resonating with our deepest collective memories.