Cigar Store Indian 1935 - 1942

Curator: Look, it's a sort of watercolor and charcoal daydream from between 1935 and 1942 titled, perhaps a bit on the nose, "Cigar Store Indian". Editor: My first thought? It feels hauntingly still. A quiet monument rendered with such gentle colours, yet carries a heavy weight of history. Curator: The figure definitely has this stoic quality, but to me it reads as somewhat whimsical. It feels almost dreamlike. Like she's been conjured up in watercolor by someone nostalgic about the ‘good ol’ days’ that were decidedly, not always good. Editor: That dreamlike quality is precisely where its unsettling nature lies. The idealisation of a stereotypical figure – the "Cigar Store Indian" was often a symbol for businesses, drawing upon exotification and misrepresentation. How many stories and cultures have been commodified like this? Curator: So, what exactly should be our takeaway then? Because the colours aren’t aggressive, there isn’t anything inherently violent in her presentation. Editor: Its visual harmony can’t distract us from the objectification inherent in its subject matter. It embodies this sense of frozen-in-time otherness that speaks to a legacy of exploitation. Consider how Indigenous representation, particularly in commercial contexts, has historically lacked agency. It’s like an artifact embodying centuries of power dynamics. Curator: True, this work by Flora Merchant walks this tightrope. And I suppose that tension between aesthetic appeal and cultural context is exactly what makes the piece stick in your mind. Editor: Absolutely. It's an opportunity to reflect on how representation intersects with commerce and how that continues to affect perceptions of Indigenous people. It urges critical thinking. Curator: See, and here I am wanting to ask this figure if she has a secret garden and if she will show it to me. What a funny trick of perspective. Editor: I guess this difference in how we read art showcases how deeply our subjective identities engage with the artwork.