Corn Knife 1939

Editor: So, this is Walter Praefke's "Corn Knife," from 1939. It's rendered in watercolor and pencil, I think? There’s something stark about it… I mean, it's just a tool, but the detail, especially the rust, makes it feel…worn? What do you see in this piece? Curator: Well, firstly, I see a whisper of untold stories. It is an object that, though seemingly simple, hums with the echo of human labor. Can't you almost feel the sun beating down on the field as you look at the depiction of that blade? Editor: Oh, I get what you mean! Like, picturing someone actually using it. The wear and tear suddenly makes it a bit romantic, in a tough, hardworking way. Curator: Precisely! There’s a rustic sort of beauty, a humble elegance. But what gets me, too, is the deliberate artistic choice – elevating this everyday object. Why depict this, of all things, in such detail, don't you wonder? What value are we being invited to recognize here? It has been around, it has aged. If the metal and the rivets could only talk. Editor: That's such a good question. I guess, at first glance, you wouldn't think a corn knife had that much to say. Now I'm wondering who owned it, and what their life was like. It feels like this image has brought back their memory a bit. Curator: Exactly! A beautiful illustration such as this gives soul to the blade that makes the steel heart sing again. We come away seeing that a drawing isn't always a drawing. And we are made richer through viewing the tale the corn knife told us about a summer long past.