Chair c. 1937

Curator: First impression? This "Chair," a watercolor and pencil drawing from around 1937 by Majel G. Claflin, strikes me as surprisingly imposing. Editor: It's…solid. Dignified, almost. Like a throne for a benevolent bear. But something's also very melancholy here. Perhaps because there is no bear… nobody’s home? Curator: I am captivated by Claflin’s skillful rendering of form through line and value. The texture achieved using watercolor gives the wood grain a tactile presence on the page. How each plane intersects—there’s real thought behind its construction, both within the drawing and I'm guessing the real chair, too. Editor: I get the structure. Still, that intricate detailing along the sides gives it character—a sort of folk-art flourish. I think that maybe the mood comes from it reminding me of my grandparents house and how objects can linger after someone leaves. The chair just…stays. Curator: Note the interplay of light and shadow; it imbues the static object with dynamic energy, suggesting functionality but almost also stillness. Observe the orthogonals receding towards a single point within the frame; what are we meant to focus on? Its geometric integrity? The object is isolated—presented in its entirety as worthy of our close inspection. Editor: Totally. But, I can also hear this chair creaking. Maybe I can feel a sunset through an open window… Maybe even imagine someone sipping iced tea there on the front porch of the past. A chair’s just a thing, sure, but it can be all those feelings at once, and I think the artist does communicate this well. Curator: Its stark, almost scientific depiction belies, perhaps, a deeper longing for comfort, security. As if capturing its likeness secures those ephemeral emotions for the viewer. Editor: A frozen moment, crafted beautifully, which offers many opportunities to reflect and interpret beyond what's apparent on the paper.