Pitcher c. 1938

George Loughridge painted this pitcher, sometime in the 20th century, with what looks like watercolor on paper. There’s a real tenderness in the rendering, a real attention to the way the light catches on the rounded form. You can see that he wasn't afraid of letting the marks show, which for me, is where the real juice is. I love the way the blues in the floral decoration bleed ever so slightly into the grey of the pitcher. It's like he's not trying to hide the process. You get the sense of the hand, the touch, the slightly imperfect, slightly awkward, but totally charming way he's built up the form. It reminds me a little of Morandi, that same quiet focus on the everyday object, elevated by the sheer act of looking and painting. It’s funny, isn't it, how a simple pitcher can become this vessel, no pun intended, for so much feeling, so much history. Like a conversation between artists across time. It doesn’t need to be anything other than what it is, this painted rendering of a simple object, inviting you to see the world, and art, a little differently.