Heliotrope: Devotion, from the series Floral Beauties and Language of Flowers (N75) for Duke brand cigarettes 1892

Curator: This little treasure, titled "Heliotrope: Devotion," hails from 1892 and comes to us from the American Tobacco Company. It's part of a series called "Floral Beauties and Language of Flowers," printed to adorn Duke brand cigarettes. Editor: It’s… surprisingly sweet. There’s something quite innocent and charming about the woman amidst all those flowers. Almost otherworldly, like she’s a garden nymph or something. Curator: Absolutely! There’s an Art Nouveau sensibility, that dreamy, romantic gaze. I imagine each flower, and her own beauty were meant to convey some message of virtue to those enjoying their cigarettes. Editor: What I find fascinating is the labor behind these cards, and the mass consumption. Think about the scale: this image wasn't meant for a museum; it was designed to be distributed en masse, tucked into cigarette packs. Who designed the flowers, who was paid, and what were the conditions? That woman’s portrait isn’t just about capturing a pretty face. Curator: I agree. But there’s a deeper element, the ephemeral quality, and something about that particular moment in time, 1892. Everything seems to hint at hidden depths. Look at her calm expression and the profusion of heliotrope around her—meant to mean ‘devotion’. Editor: The materiality contradicts that sense of devotion, in a way. Cardboard and ink made on a factory line. Consumed and then discarded. What does mass production mean to love and affection? Curator: It's curious that something so fleeting, a promotional item practically designed for disposability, should spark such conversation. This reminds me of love itself, ever transient, yet constantly reinvented. Editor: I’m still fascinated by the workers, largely invisible, whose labour brought these things into being. From the illustrators creating the design to those printing the cards, this material world hides a workforce and tells its own hidden story. Curator: This work serves as a window, doesn't it? Allowing us to see connections, the transient moments that hold the echoes of devotion. Editor: Absolutely—from high concept, to industrial means and fleeting ends, it all contributes to something greater than the sum of its parts.