Cast Iron Abraham Lincoln c. 1941

Curator: Carl Buergerniss's "Cast Iron Abraham Lincoln," circa 1941, is a fascinating piece combining watercolor with the representation of sculpture. What strikes you most about it? Editor: It's like finding Abe Lincoln in a time capsule designed by someone who really wanted to make him seem approachable. It's got that somber gravitas, but the softness of the watercolor almost makes him look pensive rather than just eternally serious. Curator: The choice to render a cast iron sculpture in watercolor is compelling. Consider how this speaks to the complex relationship between material representation and historical memory. Buergerniss made this at the dawn of WWII. What could the artist have intended through a depiction of Lincoln at that historical moment? Editor: Perhaps to draw parallels? Lincoln guided the US through civil unrest, and here's Europe descending into chaos again. I get a sense of… yearning? Like, "Oh, Abe, we need your steady hand again." Plus, the iron, despite being watercolor, grounds it in resilience. Iron for enduring, watercolor for… a hopeful vulnerability, maybe? Curator: That reading aligns with broader discussions of American identity and leadership during the period. Representing strength and resolve in delicate materials introduces nuance to simple binary interpretations of patriotism, or indeed leadership. The choice of profile view evokes classical portraiture. Editor: Yes! It does feel classical, almost Roman, but with that distinctive Lincoln beard that screams Americana. I wonder if Buergerniss intentionally played with that contrast. Curator: Precisely. He subtly questions how we construct our heroes and our understanding of power. Considering the social unrest and global conflicts that began in the 1940s, perhaps Buergerniss encourages critical evaluation of national ideals, leadership during times of conflict and collective identity. Editor: It’s thought-provoking how an image can be both reassuring and challenging simultaneously, but perhaps that tension is what the world needs to heal in moments of struggle. A subtle reminder, maybe. Well, Buergerniss certainly left us with something to ponder beyond the surface of things, or surfaces mimicking other things.