Printed on heavy 315gsm etching paper.
Open (unlimited) Edition.
Signed by the artist.
Frame not supplied.
Bit of a pun for Turner fans, but another lockdown retrieval of family anecdotes about the generation before mine.
I like the thought of this enormous airborne Titanic floating towards New Jersey with its shiny skin reflecting the slightly improbable sunset behind the pier at Ryde, with its paddle steamers and Victorian railway stock.
Even in the 30s, the island was a bit behind the times.
My mother-in-law told me about it; her mate Lorraine is fictitious, but my Uncle Colin and my Aunt Elizabeth would have been there, along with George Gribble, who joined the RAF a year later and became a Spitfire pilot.
He was officially ‘gifted’ and incredibly gutsy, crash landing on the beach at Dunkirk, ripping out the radio and getting a lift back to Hornchurch to rejoin his squadron.
He was dead by the time he was 21, missing believed killed over the Channel.