Book with lacquer covers 18th or 19th century

Editor: So, here we have an 18th- or 19th-century book with lacquer covers, artist unknown, at the Art Institute of Chicago. What strikes me immediately are these intensely-colored blossoms against that inky black backdrop. What do you make of the symbolism here? Curator: It feels like a whispered secret, doesn’t it? That glossy, dark lacquer, almost impenetrable, yet hinting at the vibrant life within. The bird, maybe a symbol of the soul, perched among those bursting blooms... a dance between stillness and ecstatic flourishing. You get the sense this book held something precious, something to be guarded and savored. Makes you wonder what stories it contained. Or what do YOU feel it might hold? Editor: A collection of poetry, maybe? Something intimate, definitely. But the way the flowers and bird are rendered also reminds me a bit of folk art. Curator: Precisely! It blends refined craftsmanship with an accessible, almost naive, charm. This wasn't just some mass-produced item; it was clearly made with love and intention. These kinds of details often appear in folk traditions— the maker leaving a bit of their soul embedded into the craft. Editor: That makes me think of storytelling. The book as a vessel not just for words, but also visual narratives passed down through generations. Curator: Yes! Exactly. What if those stylized flowers aren't just pretty things, but visual metaphors hinting at love, loss, or even political dissent coded in blossoms? Perhaps those colours were far more politically potent at the time. Editor: Wow, I hadn’t even considered the political implications. It’s incredible how much one object can contain. Curator: Isn't it just? That’s the beauty of art, it reflects us back at ourselves, always with a fresh perspective if we are brave enough to face it. Editor: Totally! Looking at this again, I'm seeing it in a completely different light. Thanks!