Flatiron c. 1937

Gene Luedke made this small painting on paper of a flatiron, using watercolor and graphite. Looking at the object depicted, I imagine the weight of this thing in my hand, its latent heat. The artist has built it up in layers, adding tone by tone, carefully rendering the planes and geometry of this mundane object. There’s something about the way that it’s situated on the page, surrounded by these little ghost sketches of other irons, that makes it look like a specimen. I think about the artist’s hand, making tiny movements to conjure its form, perhaps even from life. It’s the kind of painting that grows slowly, accruing meaning and feeling over time. I feel like the artist is having a slow conversation with an inanimate object, a silent and gentle act of attention. It reminds me of the work of Giorgio Morandi in some ways – his sensitivity and quiet contemplation. I think all art is ultimately a conversation, not just with the subject matter, but between artists across time.