Toaster c. 1939

Curator: We’re looking at a rather charming piece. It's a drawing rendered with colored pencil and watercolor. Alice Cosgrove created it around 1939 and simply titled it "Toaster." Editor: Oh, hello, little thing! It’s sweetly domestic, with a touch of the melancholy, like a ghost of breakfasts past. Does anyone even use toasters like this anymore? It’s all gleaming steel and digital timers these days. Curator: It's certainly a relic. Cosgrove captures its geometric yet hand-wrought construction quite faithfully. Notice how the light watercolor washes soften the potentially harsh lines of the metal frame. Editor: Exactly! It is the softness which pulls you in. There is almost a muted romance in the color choices. And there are only a few lines—so carefully placed and unassured; Cosgrove did not aim for absolute precision. The lines sort of wobble ever so slightly, and they suggest the charming impermanence of daily life. A still life in motion, perhaps. Curator: The formal arrangement supports that reading. The handle stretches upward in a kind of tentative reach, balanced by the more grounded base where the bread would rest. The artist almost elevates this utilitarian object. Editor: Definitely a sort of icon to those ordinary rituals—the smell of toast burning just a little on Sunday morning! Though, let's face it, those metal contraptions could be temperamental. More fire hazard than modern convenience. But what's wonderful here is how Cosgrove, perhaps subconsciously, gives value to the memory and emotion we might load onto the memory of simpler breakfasts. Curator: You’ve certainly made it less pedestrian for me! I was so focused on her use of line and color— how she softened the rigid geometry of the piece. Now I’m thinking of it more as a portal, connecting with shared experience. Editor: Aren’t objects wonderful like that, holding secrets and touching memories with unexpected power. Curator: Indeed. There's more to this little toaster than meets the eye.