Desk 1937

Editor: Okay, so we’re looking at Albert Ryder’s "Desk" from 1937, rendered in pencil, charcoal and watercolor. It strikes me as oddly serene for something so...boxy? All those right angles should feel severe, but the soft rendering gives it a certain calmness. What jumps out at you? Curator: Calm is an interesting read. To me, this piece whispers of secrets and solitude, of quiet afternoons spent lost in thought or perhaps locked away writing forbidden prose! But looking at its design reminds me a bit about colonial styles where such desks served a dual purpose; both a functional piece of furniture and a symbol of domesticity. And tell me, do you feel a hint of nostalgia clinging to this artwork? Editor: Absolutely, especially with those little cubby holes up top. You can almost smell the old paper and ink. Is that nostalgia intentional, or am I just projecting? Curator: I think intention is a slippery eel! But personally? I feel Ryder knew he was capturing more than just a piece of furniture. The gentle curves of the recessed shelves soften any harsh lines creating a lovely balance. It makes one consider not just how we keep things in their places, but what secrets the furniture themselves would tell, were they able. Wouldn't you agree? Editor: That’s beautifully put. I was focused on the visual aspect, but you’ve opened my eyes to the stories objects can hold, like time capsules. Curator: Indeed. And who knows? Maybe this very desk *was* someone’s time capsule, a vessel for their most treasured thoughts. Perhaps ours now too!