Pin Cushion 1935 - 1942

Editor: So, here we have R. Jackman's "Pin Cushion," made with watercolor and drawing sometime between 1935 and 1942. I'm struck by how this ordinary, domestic object is elevated through the detailed rendering and the choice of decorative arts style. It almost feels like an icon. What stands out to you? Curator: Indeed. The humble pin cushion, enshrined. Note the U shape of the body, mimicking the gesture of embracing. And its surface teeming with vegetal patterns rendered in delicate beads or stitches—each leaf a vessel holding narratives. What feelings does that decorative detail evoke for you? Editor: It feels intimate, almost personal. Like it carries the maker's touch and maybe stories of past needlework. I mean, even the color, this deep reddish-brown... it feels… maternal? Curator: Precisely. Colors are never neutral. Red can signify vitality, but here, tempered with brown, it suggests something earthy, linked to the body, the hearth. Consider also the symbolism embedded within needlework itself— traditionally a feminine art, a space for contemplation and quiet resistance. It suggests dedication and a wealth of accumulated experience. Do you notice how the stems emerge and flow around its body? Editor: Yes! Like arteries of this … life force? It brings all the different floral shapes together to emphasize this sense of constant creativity and domestic energy. I never thought so much could be gleaned from something so simple. Curator: Simplicity is deceptive. It allows core symbols and their emotional weight to surface more readily. We fill that "emptiness" with layers of historical memory, creating meaning anew. A very intriguing little thing. Editor: Definitely given me a fresh perspective to consider ordinary objects as carriers of memory and meaning!