Armchair c. 1937

Editor: We're looking at "Armchair," a drawing from around 1937 by Elisabeth Fulda. It seems like a fairly straightforward depiction of an ornate chair, perhaps for a furniture catalog, but I can’t help feeling there’s a certain… longing in its precise lines. What catches your eye? Curator: It’s the stillness, isn't it? Like a stage set after the actors have left. I feel like the empty seat is charged with unspoken stories. Elisabeth Fulda meticulously rendered the plush fabric and carved wood, imbuing the object with its own presence. I'd wager that during the rise of the Bauhaus movement, where the functionality of an object was as valuable as its artistry, Elisabeth Fulda wanted to portray the value of an object. Why do you suppose she selected that specific point of view? Editor: Well, directly facing us like that, the chair seems almost like a portrait. I feel invited to sit, but also kept at a distance by its formal symmetry. Did people find comfort in such opulence during the lead-up to the Second World War, I wonder? Curator: An excellent observation! And one might also question the chair's symbolism. Is this about personal wealth, security, comfort? Fulda’s rendering teases us, presenting beauty in an otherwise ugly world. What feelings does that inspire in you? Editor: Now that you mention the rise of fascism, the formality does feel… slightly menacing. A bit like sitting for a photograph, as a family, knowing a storm is coming. Thanks for your insight; I initially thought I was looking at a very pretty chair! Curator: And now? The best art makes us see familiar things with fresh eyes. Art invites us to ask better questions!