Press Cupboard 1936

Curator: This watercolour illustration from 1936, simply titled "Press Cupboard," renders the intricate details of this imposing piece of furniture with loving care. It's attributed to Elizabeth Curtis. What are your first thoughts? Editor: It feels...sturdy. Enduring. It’s not trying to be anything other than a well-made piece, something intended for serious use. There’s a certain quiet dignity about it. Curator: I'm drawn to the shadows—see how they're used to emphasize the ornate carving. There's a sort of depth play happening. Despite it being a very real depiction, I’m transported. Does it conjure memories for you? Editor: Oh, definitely. These "press cupboards" were more than mere storage; they were symbols of status. Placing it in context of the 1930s, think about the austerity of the Depression era. Possessing such a cupboard would speak volumes about a family's resilience. What does it say to you? Curator: Perhaps it echoes her yearning to preserve beauty in simple ways during difficult times? I am interested in how domestic labour is given reverence here. The light is so soft! Yet the structure has solidity. And the wood detailing almost hums. It's interesting she renders it in watercolour and not, say, an oil painting, what do you think that might signify? Editor: I find it interesting too. Watercolours can bring softness and also fragility... perhaps it is about capturing a legacy that's fading. Curtis might be gesturing to how traditions intersect with gender roles—women particularly were, and in many ways still are, custodians of such domestic objects, so a watercolour could highlight that role. Curator: Mmm, that resonates. And the slight imperfections, the handmade quality—it’s all part of its charm, I feel. You know I think she makes a mundane object sing. A little like us now in dialogue, don't you think? Editor: Exactly! And now I will have to keep an eye out to appreciate details in watercolour pieces. Thank you. Curator: Until the next conversation!