Weathercock c. 1936

Editor: Here we have Florian Rokita’s "Weathercock," likely from around 1936, created with watercolor and coloured pencil. It feels both practical and whimsical, a study of something so simple. What do you see in it? Curator: Ah, yes, "Weathercock"! I love how Rokita elevates the mundane. It's not just a functional object; it’s imbued with personality, isn't it? That slightly comical posture, the assertive crow... He’s not just pointing us to the wind, he’s narrating a little drama, perhaps? Do you get that sense of playful defiance from it? Editor: Definitely! There’s a bit of cheeky confidence in the way he’s standing, like he’s about to give you his opinion, whether you asked for it or not. And those colors! Curator: Precisely! The earthy tones mixed with that pop of red... almost revolutionary, don’t you think? Reminds me of folk art, the way it democratizes beauty, pulls it from the rooftops into our consciousness. I wonder, does it make you think of any particular stories or rural scenes? Editor: You know, I immediately pictured a farm in a children's book. It feels very accessible, but the artistry is also quite evident. Curator: And that's the genius, isn't it? Simplicity masking sophisticated skill. It prompts you to appreciate the everyday, search for the extraordinary hidden in the ordinary... Perhaps even reassess which way the wind is truly blowing! Editor: I hadn't thought about it that way! Thanks, that was enlightening! Curator: My pleasure! Always a joy to explore the world, and the winds of thought, through art.