Rawhide Quirt 1935 - 1942

Curator: Right, so next up we have Cecil Smith’s “Rawhide Quirt” done between 1935 and 1942 using watercolor and drawing. Quite striking, isn't it? Editor: Oh, yes, it's...arresting. Something about the object depicted combined with such a delicate medium throws me off. It has a somber air to it. Curator: Tell me more about what causes this somber air to hang. Editor: Well, thinking about the material qualities, there is the braiding. The plaiting here looks functional, sturdy even – not unlike you’d expect a useful tool or adornment. The layers of labor it embodies... that is craftsmanship, not just decoration. Someone knew their material. I also suspect a story lurking. It looks used. Curator: A dark sort of story indeed, if it could talk. I appreciate the contrast. The leather hangs heavy, yes, with suggestion of a different life than perhaps it enjoys here pinned flat and framed on display. How interesting that Smith, perhaps well-acquainted with tools like these, chooses watercolor, of all media, to immortalize it, though! Do you read irony in it? Editor: Irony? Perhaps a kind of muted reverence? I do like to think about the practical value versus aesthetic representation, yes, which might speak to its creation and role in society. It's certainly functional art. And, given the probable purposes to which it might be put...the application of water seems like it cleanses it of its purpose, no? Renders it impotent but...sacred somehow. Curator: I find it also says something about what and whose labor gets memorialized, displayed, valued. What about this tension intrigues you most in context with his other work? Editor: That is it is more about memorializing the making, you know? Paying homage to a piece's creation and less focused on surface appearances. It hints at more universal truths than at its own specifics, as it is meant to show rather the whole of production than one piece of an art piece. Curator: Mmm. Fascinating lens to bring, seeing the material and maker honored here in such a simple yet dignified pose. A tool becomes a monument. Editor: Right? And one charged with stories, nonetheless! Thanks to these careful choices. Very evocative, really.