Two Figures in a Landscape 1865

Editor: We're looking at Odilon Redon’s “Two Figures in a Landscape,” drawn in 1865. It has this almost melancholic feel to it, with these small figures dwarfed by the expansive landscape. What do you make of it? Curator: Ah, Redon. Even in his earlier, more grounded work like this, there’s that seed of the symbolic, wouldn't you agree? Those figures are poised at the edge, almost hesitant, aren't they? The vast sky seems to be pressing down, full of unspoken stories. Editor: Definitely. They look a little lost, or maybe contemplative? Curator: Lost perhaps, but delightfully so, like willing participants in the theater of the soul! The landscape almost swallows them, blurring the boundaries of reality. Don’t you think that sense of form dissolving contributes to this air of reverie and introspective searching that seems to define Redon? Editor: It really does. Is that what separates this landscape from, say, a Constable landscape? Curator: Exactly! Constable is about presence and celebration of what is visibly known, while Redon seems preoccupied with the elusive and the imaginary. The light, for instance, is dreamlike rather than strictly observed, giving us feeling over fact. It makes one want to leap into that dreamy seascape! Editor: I never really thought about it like that. Thanks! Curator: My pleasure! Never underestimate the allure of a good horizon line – it’s just begging for our thoughts to travel. I’ll ponder where they're off to and perhaps sketch my own, evermore, after this experience.