Inkwell 1935 - 1942

Curator: Jessica Price's "Inkwell," dating from somewhere between 1935 and 1942, is a delicate watercolor drawing on paper. It's really quite lovely. Editor: Yes, it has such a quiet presence, doesn’t it? A gentle echo of a simpler time, like a ghost of emerald dreams distilled onto paper. I imagine the artist pausing in their work, enchanted by the mundane. Curator: Precisely! One cannot overlook the functional role the object itself plays—as an essential writing tool central to the production and circulation of texts. Editor: While also offering me a quiet reverie. It almost feels as though it captures not the inkwell itself, but a certain feeling _about_ having an inkwell, if that makes sense? Do you find something of the handmade labor implied within the composition? Curator: Certainly, the drawing method inherently foregrounds the artist's hand—particularly watercolor on paper. It demands a deliberate pace, resisting mass production methods. Editor: A beautiful little meditation, then, on process _and_ the peculiar beauty of everyday objects elevated by careful artistic labor. Do you think the colour might indicate some emotion held by the maker for the inkwell itself? Curator: Possibly! But I consider the deliberate choice of material, technique, and subject—they each signify an intentional push against mechanized production. The individual object matters because the hand matters. Editor: Perhaps Price chose a simple, solitary inkwell as a quiet rebellion _against_ standardization—against the machine and for that individual voice in ink. So poetic that it can offer solace from the incessant hum of now, reminding us of the inherent grace nestled inside everyday things. Curator: Exactly, in its delicate way the work pushes for viewers to think critically about production, not just passively consume art. Editor: Nicely put. I appreciate you pointing me to the importance of that subtle tension.