Kitchen Broiler c. 1937

Curator: Welcome. Here we have "Kitchen Broiler," a watercolor and drawing piece, created around 1937 by Edna C. Rex. What's your first take? Editor: It’s so humble. It almost feels melancholy, you know? This lone, rusty broiler rack adrift in a sea of off-white paper. It's both ordinary and somehow deeply evocative. I'm reminded of charcoal smoke and sputtering fat. Curator: It's interesting you use the word "melancholy." These drawings, made during the Great Depression by artists employed through the WPA, focused on capturing functional items. There’s a project in merely recording aspects of life, isn't it? Preserving objects, spaces, and even labour. Editor: Absolutely. It makes you consider the unseen labor that goes into just, like, grilling a burger! And there’s an honesty to the materials; the way the watercolor renders the dark metal, showing age. It gives the impression it might feel coarse to the touch. You said something about the Depression era? Curator: Right. Rex, like many artists of the time, was documenting everyday America. There was a real interest in presenting an accurate view of daily life – not to mention supporting struggling artists with federal employment. It wasn't about grandeur. Instead, it focused on objects that performed services. These seemingly simple renderings gain potency when you think about that context, I feel. It's social commentary but with the most mundane items as props! Editor: I completely agree. You know, it seems so straightforward, a direct representation of an object, but because of the era, because it was a way for Edna Rex to find stability, suddenly this grill is a beacon. A quiet testament to American resilience. It definitely holds an unusual poignancy, despite it seemingly being a still object with little drama. Curator: Precisely. When you look closely at "Kitchen Broiler," it transcends its simple form and reveals layers of cultural and personal significance. Editor: So much from just a rack used to make sandwiches. Amazing. Curator: A reminder that every object tells a story. Editor: A story seasoned to perfection, it would seem.