Woodstock Barns c. 1935 - 1939

Editor: So, this is Dayton Brandfield’s “Woodstock Barns,” a watercolor print from the late 1930s. It feels very…unpretentious, somehow. What do you make of it? Curator: Right away, I see the emphasis on process. This isn’t just about *depicting* rural life, it’s about showing the marks of labor. Look at the unadorned sheds, the visible brushstrokes suggesting rough-hewn lumber, the simple tools present. Editor: You mean the ladder and maybe even the figure sitting outside? Curator: Precisely. The figure is not a hero but another element embedded within this network of material production. Consider how Regionalism often romanticized rural America, yet this seems to quietly resist that. The materials – the very substance of these barns – and the labor inherent in their creation are foregrounded, no? Editor: I see what you mean. It’s like the process of building is just as important, if not more, than the ideal of rural life. Are you suggesting the choice of watercolor print, as opposed to something like oil on canvas, reinforces that focus? Curator: Exactly! Think about it – printmaking itself is a process of reproduction, democratizing art. The medium choices speak volumes about accessibility and value assigned to different kinds of artistic labor. There's no pretense of preciousness. This resonates with ideas surrounding consumption of both art and resources in the pre-war period. Editor: So by focusing on the materials and labor, Brandfield comments on broader social and economic systems? That makes the artwork much more… grounded, literally and figuratively. Curator: Yes, it reminds us that even a seemingly simple landscape is embedded in complex networks of production and consumption. Editor: I'll definitely be paying closer attention to materials going forward, seeing them as active participants in the message of a piece.