Silver Sauce Boat 1936

Editor: Here we have Michael Fenga’s "Silver Sauce Boat," a pencil drawing from 1936. It's rendered so precisely, I almost mistook it for a photograph at first glance! What strikes you about this piece? Curator: What's interesting to me is that Fenga, through drawing, presents us not just with the *image* of a luxury item, but compels us to consider its manufacture. A silver sauce boat wasn't exactly mass-produced, even in the '30s. Why depict it in such painstaking detail? Do you think that detailed drawing replicates the craft that goes into crafting such an object? Editor: I hadn’t thought of it that way. It makes you consider the labor behind both the silversmithing and the draftsmanship. It’s almost a record of skill. Do you see a connection to social status? Curator: Absolutely. The sauce boat, historically, signifies a certain level of domestic affluence, even decadence. Consider the material; silver wasn’t cheap. And a drawing like this, likely a design proposal, emphasizes the meticulous crafting required. It speaks volumes about the intended market and their perceived values of precision and tradition, don't you think? Editor: I suppose. The medium—pencil—seems almost at odds with the preciousness of the subject matter, though. Is that part of the point, to bring it back down to earth? Curator: Possibly. Or, is it highlighting the democratization of design? It hints at the increasing role of design and mass production in shaping even luxury goods during that period. Who is dictating tastes, designers or consumers? The means of representing the object has shifted. Editor: This has really opened my eyes to how much a seemingly simple drawing can tell us about the materials, process, and even social implications of a crafted object. Curator: Indeed. Looking at art from a materialist perspective encourages us to think critically about production, consumption, and the very tangible relationship between objects and society.