Old Doc 1937

Editor: Nicholas Panesis’s "Old Doc," created in 1937, is a striking print. The composition—a humble dwelling, an old man whittling—feels quiet and contemplative. What first strikes you when you look at this drawing? Curator: I notice the hands. The old man's hands, actively shaping something new, contrast sharply with the backdrop that seems to speak of a fading past. He is situated at the threshold of civilization and wild nature, which suggests that hands of working people change civilization. Is "Old Doc" reshaping the past or is he participating in an act of remembrance, or both? Editor: Remembrance, maybe? I mean, he looks like he’s lost in thought. There’s such a feeling of solitude. Curator: Indeed. But solitude can be generative. His contemplative stance reminds me of images of hermits and sages. What if "Old Doc's" solitude allows him to connect with the foundational myths and archetypes? Editor: That's an interesting perspective. So you are saying the artwork's meaning isn't just about this particular old man. It is also about all the knowledge he might have? Curator: Precisely. This print invites us to contemplate our own connection to tradition. And more than this: consider that through the image-making tradition the "Old Doc" becomes timeless, endlessly available to reinterpretation and remembrance. Editor: I hadn't thought of it that way. It makes you think about what knowledge we value and how it's passed down. Curator: Images speak in their own unique way, transcending the boundaries of time, evoking feelings and symbols. They shape us! Editor: Thanks, this makes me see the work differently! I was only looking at the surface narrative, but now, thanks to the images, I realize it's so much more.