Memorial Money Bank c. 1940

Curator: Let’s examine Nicholas Amantea's “Memorial Money Bank” from around 1940, a mixed-media construction featuring metal and drawing elements. It immediately strikes me as a potent, though perhaps naive, symbol of American values and material aspirations. Editor: Naive? I see it as industrious! The patina on that metal, the detail in the lithography, speaks to an object made with specific techniques of production in mind, presumably for a mass market. Curator: True. The production details are fascinating, particularly in understanding it as a consumer object. The integration of American symbolism —the Liberty Bell, the eagle, what appears to be the Capitol Building— begs the question of how ideas of national identity were commodified and sold to the public, especially considering the era. What did “Memorial” really mean at the time? Editor: I think “Memorial” points directly to capital, literally and figuratively. This isn’t just any knick-knack; it's a savings bank, teaching financial habits from a young age using these charged images. Consider the labor required to create it, from mining the metal to the hands assembling and painting each piece— it is deeply rooted in a socioeconomic web. Curator: Yes, there is this intrinsic connection of financial saving and national loyalty being indoctrinated from childhood. One wonders, though, about the audience it targets. Was it for immigrants establishing roots in America? The use of national symbols could act as an instrument of cultural assimilation, subconsciously influencing how money and American ideals intertwine. Editor: Absolutely. And the materials chosen — the weight of the metal, the printing on it— all factor into our perception of its worth, both monetary and symbolic. It's fascinating to consider what it would feel like in the hands. The material and labor shape our understanding. Curator: Right, and seeing it now, almost a century later, those values carry new weight. What seemed a straightforward memorial is now laden with questions about American capitalism, nationalism, and cultural manufacturing. It feels more complicated, even critical, in retrospect. Editor: It certainly does. Focusing on its materials and how it was made brings a richer understanding to its function beyond a simple bank. It is a three-dimensional lesson in manufactured American identity, wrapped in labor. Curator: A striking synthesis of art, commerce, and social indoctrination! Editor: And materiality matters when we discuss ideology, I think. This money bank serves as more than an image; it’s a nexus of meaning made real through craft and making.