Abbéville 1905

Charles John Watson's "Abbéville" is a symphony in subtle blacks and greys, an etching that feels as delicate as a memory. I can imagine Watson, back whenever it was, carefully layering acid on the plate, each line a small decision. What was he thinking, tracing the cathedral's spires with such intricate detail? Maybe he was trying to capture not just the place, but also the feeling of being there. The people bustling in the street, the weight of history in the stone—you can almost hear the echoes of their footsteps and chatter. The artist's gaze lingers on the gothic architecture of the buildings, contrasting the lightness of the sky. This reminds me of other etchers, all those artists obsessed with line and texture, each trying to trap a piece of the world on a plate. There's something so intimate about the process, a quiet conversation between the artist, the metal, and the acid. It's about exchange: the artist's vision mingling with the material's possibilities, resulting in a captured moment.