Pewter Porringer c. 1937

Harry Goodman's "Pewter Porringer," presents a simple utilitarian object with graphite on paper. I love how the light catches the curves of the bowl, like liquid metal swirling, as if the drawing is being made in real time. The muted palette, almost monochromatic, makes you focus on the process. You can almost see Goodman pushing the graphite around, building up layers, and using erasers to carve out the highlights. There's something about the way the surface is worked that gives a real sense of depth to the object. It's like the drawing itself is a kind of performance, a record of the artist's engagement with this simple object. And that handle, with its intricate loops and flourishes, feels almost like a little joke, adding a touch of whimsy to the whole thing. It reminds me a little of Giorgio Morandi, in that both artists elevated the everyday object through repetition and subtle variation. It’s a reminder that art doesn’t always need to be loud or flashy to be meaningful.