Day Bed c. 1940

Curator: Here we have Peter Ustinov's watercolor drawing, "Day Bed," created around 1940. It's a delicate rendering. Editor: The sparseness of the watercolor gives it an ephemeral quality, doesn’t it? As if the bed might fade away at any moment. And the precision—you can see the weave of the fabric almost. Curator: It is a striking image of domestic life during wartime, one that may allude to some anxieties of the time. It’s tempting to view such works through the lens of socio-political anxieties during the era, in a world on the brink of conflict. Editor: But wouldn’t it be intriguing if this level of detail pointed to something else, a material precision that serves to elevate the ordinary? It makes me consider who would use this bed, what the making of it looked like—the artisan labor that resulted in this particular item and this particular rendering. Curator: Yes, thinking about it in the context of the interwar years is crucial. We should remember the revival of classical design and the longing for a sense of stability that design evoked, especially during periods of turmoil. Editor: Definitely a way to grapple with the unease of the time. But I still wonder about the labor itself: where was the wood sourced? Who wove the textile for the cushion? And the materials to make this rendering. Thinking about that whole chain—from extraction to creation—shows labor organizing the space and people’s lives, doesn’t it? Curator: Perhaps. In the grand scheme of art history, pieces like "Day Bed" can sometimes seem like quiet observations, but they're valuable glimpses into the cultural currents and material circumstances that shape artistic expression and the politics of aesthetics. Editor: Indeed, seeing art history as materially grounded, and also attentive to the hands that make, that is something to remember. It broadens our understanding of the art.