Glass 1935 - 1942

Curator: So, here we have "Glass," a watercolor and drawing by Lillian Causey, likely created between 1935 and 1942. My first thought? Utter transparency. Editor: Transparency indeed! It's deceptive, isn't it? A simple object, meticulously rendered, but all I can think about is how commonplace such a vessel might be – its role in daily domestic labor during the interwar years. Who manufactured it, what was it filled with, who washed it afterwards? Curator: Precisely. It’s deceptively simple, inviting deeper contemplation. Notice how the light filters and bends within the glass—how delicate, yet strong the depiction is? It feels both present and ephemeral, capturing a fleeting moment. Like a visual haiku. Editor: The medium really speaks to that too. The decision to use watercolor and drawing is so crucial. We're looking at the process, the artistic labor that went into giving form to something as inherently formless as glass. There is something revolutionary in depicting the everyday with such care. Curator: Don’t you think there is a stillness? A kind of quiet, contemplative energy emanating from it. Maybe even a bit melancholic? It almost feels like a study of absence. It's not just *any* glass; it feels like *the* glass, pregnant with personal history. Editor: Or *a* glass, reproduced and circulated as part of a larger commodity chain – and memorialized on paper as if the object transcends mere utilitarian purpose. It's an assertion of value within the reach of a working or middle-class consumer. Curator: Maybe. But in making such a choice, wouldn't you say the artist highlights something far beyond the mere object and manufacturing practices? Editor: The fact that the handle almost takes the form of a question mark gives me pause, but ultimately, thinking about the wider circumstances surrounding artistic production at the time really pulls things together. Curator: It is compelling to look at things this way, really gets us thinking about value and context beyond pure aesthetics. Editor: Exactly, I think about all of these questions more as the beginning, rather than the end, of a deeper appreciation for Causey's technical facility and keen insights.