Trivet c. 1942

Violet Hartenstein made this drawing of a trivet, its date is unknown. It's rendered in muted, earthy tones, which gives it a kind of humble, unassuming presence. The trivet itself has a star cut out, surrounded by circles, all neatly arranged. The marks are precise and deliberate, suggesting a steady hand and a clear plan. The surface is smooth, the colors blended softly, creating a gentle, almost meditative feel. But then, you look closer at the star, and it's not quite perfect. It's a little wobbly, a little off-center, as if the artist allowed for the hand's natural tremor. That one small detail changes everything. It’s like a crack in a perfect facade, letting in a bit of realness, a bit of vulnerability. It reminds me a little of Agnes Martin, who explored a similar sensibility in her grid paintings; an almost imperceptible but purposeful imperfection. These small ‘mistakes’ are what makes a piece sing, it’s like a secret note only you can hear.