Stoneware Jar c. 1937

Annie B. Johnston made this drawing of a stoneware jar, and it’s all about the delicate dance of color, right? There's such softness in the gradations, a real caress to the eye. The drawing is subtle, the color barely there, like a memory. I’m thinking of Morandi. He would have loved this. It's like she’s not just showing us the jar but also the feeling of the jar, the weight of it, the history, the utility. The handle on the left, how it curves back into itself, is drawn in such a way that it seems to pull the whole jar into motion, a still life that’s somehow alive. It makes me want to reach out and touch it, feel the cool, smooth surface of the stoneware. The jar looks solid, but the drawing feels so fragile, like a whisper. Isn't that what art is? Making something solid and ephemeral all at once?