Stoneware Jar c. 1937

Editor: This is Annie B. Johnston's "Stoneware Jar," around 1937, rendered in graphite and charcoal. The starkness of the cracked jar, contrasted with the softness of the drawing style, gives it a kind of melancholic beauty. What story do you think it's trying to tell? Curator: That crack, right? It’s not just damage; it’s a scar. Think about the vessels that have carried water or held grain for centuries. They become symbolic, carrying within them narratives of sustenance and daily life. The broken rim almost feels like a mouth that can no longer speak or feed. Editor: So, you see it as a loss of functionality representing perhaps a broader cultural loss? Curator: Precisely. In the act of depicting a broken jar, Johnston seems to meditate on ideas of fragility and the transient nature of usefulness. The choice of drawing materials — graphite and charcoal – enhances the impression of fleeting time, like sketches from an archaeological dig. Does that make sense to you? Editor: It does. The drawing itself almost looks faded like an artifact that could crumble to the touch. It seems like a representation of something ancient that has been uncovered. Curator: Yes, but it’s also carefully rendered, and the break is meticulously detailed with charcoal strokes. Johnston acknowledges the value of even a ruined vessel, almost suggesting we consider the history imprinted on the jar rather than simply discarding it. It also carries with it that timeless human desire to salvage and restore meaning from ruins. Editor: It's like the Japanese art of Kintsugi – repairing broken pottery with gold – turning damage into something precious. I like how it connects the personal to larger histories. Thank you. Curator: And it reminds us to look closely at everyday objects; they’re loaded with cultural meaning and stories. My pleasure.