Zoar Shingle Axe c. 1937

Curator: Here we have Clarence Horton’s "Zoar Shingle Axe," rendered around 1937 in watercolor and drawing. When you first see it, what comes to mind? Editor: Well, first off, there's a rustic simplicity to it. It's like Horton's honoring the dignity of labor, but also giving us the silent story of craftsmanship through the forms of this axe. Curator: I agree entirely. It’s an artifact lovingly captured; humble, yet the composition transforms it. He seems focused not on industrialization, but rather a fading connection to material processes. Editor: Absolutely, it’s about material agency, right? The axe as a tool signifies production. Wood transformed to shelter, shaping raw stuff into useful and practical things. And those browns! Curator: Earthy, yes. He isn't just documenting an object; it is memorializing something profound that exists beneath. Maybe an elegiac reverence of those days before our disembodiment through industry. Editor: Precisely, before the separation. It asks questions about what we sacrifice when objects are removed from human hands, reflecting this pre-industrial existence through an artistic study in the form of this old Zoar shingle axe. Curator: To put it differently, by immortalizing something as seemingly mundane as a shingle axe through watercolor, Horton allows the viewer to ponder the simple beauties often overshadowed by societal advancement. Perhaps the axe stands as a bittersweet reminder of what’s left behind in pursuit of progression. Editor: Indeed! So few works celebrate tools that facilitate the process between nature and habitability; so many focus on pure aesthetics. In this case we’re dealing with a perfect embodiment of human will as a driver in society. Thanks for sharing your perspectives; I have something new to consider now. Curator: The pleasure was all mine!