Head of My Mother n.d.

Editor: We're looking at "Head of My Mother," a marble sculpture by Anna Hyatt Huntington. The date isn't specified, but it certainly carries a sense of timelessness, doesn't it? I'm struck by its stillness. What do you see in this piece? Curator: I see… tenderness. Not the gushing kind, mind you, but the quiet, profound tenderness only a child can feel for their mother, or a mother for her child. It’s in the slight downward tilt of the head, as if lost in a loving thought. What gets me is the rope detail at the edge of the head covering - so humble, and yet meticulously carved! Makes me wonder about their relationship; did she have calloused hands? Editor: That's beautiful. The rope detail hadn’t registered so profoundly, but now that you point it out, it adds another layer. Were such realist portraits typical for sculptors at that time? Curator: Not always! Classicism definitely had its hold. And yet, consider how revolutionary it is to render one's own mother with such intimacy, instead of some mythological goddess! There's a realism here, certainly, but filtered through such evident affection that it feels utterly unique to her, and perhaps every mother. It dares you to face something pure. What is YOUR mother like? Editor: That's made me think so much. It’s a departure from the heroic sculpture I associate with this period. It feels wonderfully personal. Curator: Absolutely. Perhaps Anna Hyatt Huntington immortalized a universal story of care – carved in marble, solidifying forever.