Dolphin Candlestick c. 1935

Curator: I find the clean lines of the “Dolphin Candlestick” rather striking; the design aesthetic reminds me of the art deco period. Editor: Immediately I feel an odd tension. Its playful shape juxtaposes oddly with the weight it intends to hold—it's a pretty object burdened with practical, ceremonial tasks. Is that intended to be light-hearted or subversive, do you think? Curator: Considering its materiality, paper with watercolor and colored pencil, and given the production date circa 1935, I'd wager it represents a concept for a functional piece rendered in preliminary form. The geometric shape of the base, echoed in the candlestick top, provide symmetry; it has some refinement. Editor: True, that repetitive geometry offers structure. But looking beyond its formal qualities, who gets to use something like this? Was the dolphin form referencing something very popular in the decorative art era, something from Classical myth or maritime culture, I wonder. Curator: Dolphins certainly were a common motif, yes, but let’s get back to its lines. Note how the artist balances curvilinear forms of the dolphin with sharp angles. See how the tail subtly mirrors the flare of the candlestick holder itself, creating visual echoes that reinforce unity? Editor: Certainly. However, this reading seems to exclude the original context. Without knowing whose home this object might eventually have inhabited, or the role that interior design played in constructing and reinforcing class and gender identities at that moment, we can never know the intended purpose. Curator: Those details elude us. Yet the enduring composition itself testifies to lasting aesthetic appeal. The very rendering, and its potential future form, communicates design regardless of use. Editor: Maybe...for me, I feel a tension, unresolved and intriguing. It evokes longing for domestic scenes layered with the complexities of wealth and aesthetic taste in an era of political change. What a story this single object tells.