Edinburgh 1928

Andrew Watson Turnbull created this etching of Edinburgh, with a restrained palette of sepia tones rendered using fine, delicate lines. I imagine Turnbull standing on a hillside, squinting into the middle distance, his hand moving with precision and care as he etches the scene. The artist coaxes a complex cityscape out of the barest means. The architecture unfolds across the picture plane, punctuated by the vertical thrust of church spires and towers, leading the eye towards the distant horizon. I sympathize with Turnbull’s desire to capture this evocative image, this place. He wants to share what it feels like to stand there in that very spot, which might be what all landscape artists want to do. He knows he won't be the last to record this majestic Scottish city in art, and that's part of the conversation he's having with the world. It's about embodied expression, embracing ambiguity, and allowing for multiple interpretations.