Piano c. 1936

Editor: So here we have “Piano,” a pencil and ink drawing made around 1936 by Florence Choate. There's a beautiful precision in the lines that makes it feel almost like an architectural rendering. It is rather lovely; I'd almost want to play this instrument in a salon with marble floors. How would you interpret this work? Curator: Oh, I love that you pick up on the architectural aspect! I feel like there's a kind of quiet reverence in Choate's meticulousness, a real focus on line and geometry but also on surface – note the wood graining effect and inlaid details. It almost has that aura of the 'real object,' but, like looking into a dollhouse, one knows it isn't. Do you get that feeling of simultaneous reality and otherness? Editor: Absolutely! Like a tangible ghost or a meticulously made dream. What's also striking is the attention given to the maker's mark, which to me, gives importance to both art and craft. How might this placement and inclusion add to the work? Curator: Yes, excellent observation about the maker’s mark. It roots the drawing in a specific time and place – acknowledging the craftsmanship behind the object itself, as well as the representation. It adds an additional layer of meaning, transforming it from a mere drawing of a piano into a meditation on artistry itself, doesn’t it? I think there’s something tenderly hopeful about that declaration. Editor: I agree! It feels like Choate is celebrating not only art and design, but artistry within craft. I hadn’t thought about it in that way initially; I really appreciate how that illuminates my understanding! Curator: Absolutely. I learned a great deal today, also. Thanks for bringing your sharp perceptions and keen eyes to the conversation!