Flatiron c. 1938

William Spiecker made this painting of a flatiron, and you know, I'm immediately imagining the surface of the painting. It seems as though Speicker might have carefully and painstakingly, even lovingly, built up these darks and lights with many layers. I'm thinking about Spiecker, an artist born in the mid-19th century, working in a realist tradition. I wonder if, like me, he might have got lost in the nuances of the colours, their textures, and the object's shapes. I can imagine the light in the studio, the smell of the paint, the quiet concentration, and the act of trying to capture the ordinary and make it sing on the paper. I can almost feel the weight of the iron, the warmth of the wood against my hand... Artists are always in conversation with each other, borrowing and lending ideas across time. Each artwork is a testament to this dialogue, a reminder of the endless possibilities of painting as a form of embodied expression.