Color reduction woodcut printed on wove paper.
Edition of 22 artist's proofs.
Signed, titled, numbered and annotated in pencil.
NOTE: The first image you see on this page is a detail of a larger work. To see the overall composition, please scroll to the other image(s).
"DETAILS EXHIBIT" NOTE:
In Eskimo languages, meaning in a variety Inuit and Yupik dialects, there are many words to describe snow and ice. There’s a bit of controversy around what is a “word” in these languages, but there are words to differentiate “wet snow” from “crystalline powder”, for instance. And why wouldn’t there be? If snow is your transport surface and also gets used to build your housing, chances are, there is a good snow for one, and another snow that’s adequate mostly for the other. So, I look at the second composition finished by Grietje Postma in 2018 and ponder: why do we only have one word for white? Why doesn’t the white of the snow resting on green pine trees have one name, while the slightly pink snow on the ground have another? And why isn’t there a name for the white sky laden with snow clouds, ready to fall to earth, on those frosty and humid winter days? Should we, the people who admire prints have a name for the white of the paper as it contrasts to surrounding colors? I’m just asking, because it doesn’t all look white to me, somehow.