Sea Ghosts Print
$26.00
What do you get when you cross a séance with a seafood market? Apparently, Sea Ghosts. In this 1935 spectral still life, Marsden Hartley presents us with four fish—stacked, staring, and strangely judgmental—posed as if mid-chorus in a melancholy doo-wop number. Their eyes, each a coiled spiral, do not blink. They know what you did last summer. And also what you forgot to do with that mackerel in your fridge.
Rendered in chalky whites, blues, and the kind of brown that lives in storm clouds and 5 a.m. harbor fog, these ghost-fish are less meal than memory. Framed in ghostly green like the sea’s own picture window, they float above absence. Above brine. Above reproach.
• 16" x 20"
• Paper thickness: 10.3 mil
• Paper weight: 189 g/m²
• Opacity: 94%
• ISO brightness: 104%
• Paper is sourced from Japan
Rendered in chalky whites, blues, and the kind of brown that lives in storm clouds and 5 a.m. harbor fog, these ghost-fish are less meal than memory. Framed in ghostly green like the sea’s own picture window, they float above absence. Above brine. Above reproach.
• 16" x 20"
• Paper thickness: 10.3 mil
• Paper weight: 189 g/m²
• Opacity: 94%
• ISO brightness: 104%
• Paper is sourced from Japan
Quantity:
What do you get when you cross a séance with a seafood market? Apparently, Sea Ghosts. In this 1935 spectral still life, Marsden Hartley presents us with four fish—stacked, staring, and strangely judgmental—posed as if mid-chorus in a melancholy doo-wop number. Their eyes, each a coiled spiral, do not blink. They know what you did last summer. And also what you forgot to do with that mackerel in your fridge.
Rendered in chalky whites, blues, and the kind of brown that lives in storm clouds and 5 a.m. harbor fog, these ghost-fish are less meal than memory. Framed in ghostly green like the sea’s own picture window, they float above absence. Above brine. Above reproach.
• 16" x 20"
• Paper thickness: 10.3 mil
• Paper weight: 189 g/m²
• Opacity: 94%
• ISO brightness: 104%
• Paper is sourced from Japan
Rendered in chalky whites, blues, and the kind of brown that lives in storm clouds and 5 a.m. harbor fog, these ghost-fish are less meal than memory. Framed in ghostly green like the sea’s own picture window, they float above absence. Above brine. Above reproach.
• 16" x 20"
• Paper thickness: 10.3 mil
• Paper weight: 189 g/m²
• Opacity: 94%
• ISO brightness: 104%
• Paper is sourced from Japan
What do you get when you cross a séance with a seafood market? Apparently, Sea Ghosts. In this 1935 spectral still life, Marsden Hartley presents us with four fish—stacked, staring, and strangely judgmental—posed as if mid-chorus in a melancholy doo-wop number. Their eyes, each a coiled spiral, do not blink. They know what you did last summer. And also what you forgot to do with that mackerel in your fridge.
Rendered in chalky whites, blues, and the kind of brown that lives in storm clouds and 5 a.m. harbor fog, these ghost-fish are less meal than memory. Framed in ghostly green like the sea’s own picture window, they float above absence. Above brine. Above reproach.
• 16" x 20"
• Paper thickness: 10.3 mil
• Paper weight: 189 g/m²
• Opacity: 94%
• ISO brightness: 104%
• Paper is sourced from Japan
Rendered in chalky whites, blues, and the kind of brown that lives in storm clouds and 5 a.m. harbor fog, these ghost-fish are less meal than memory. Framed in ghostly green like the sea’s own picture window, they float above absence. Above brine. Above reproach.
• 16" x 20"
• Paper thickness: 10.3 mil
• Paper weight: 189 g/m²
• Opacity: 94%
• ISO brightness: 104%
• Paper is sourced from Japan