Plant Stand 1880 - 1920

Editor: Here we have an intriguing piece, simply titled *Plant Stand*. We know it was made sometime between 1880 and 1920, from wood, and is part of the Art Institute of Chicago's collection. Its anonymous maker crafted it into this complex, almost fortress-like structure of intersecting wooden beams. Honestly, I find its rigid geometry to be quite captivating, like some bizarre minimalist sculpture… What’s your take on it? Curator: Captivating is the word, yes! It almost breathes with potential. Imagine tiny sprouts, verdant leaves reaching skyward, contrasted against that disciplined, repetitive geometry. A rather lovely battle of organic vs. ordered, wouldn’t you agree? I'm drawn to how the maker marries, even toys with, purpose and form. Do you think the artist even intended for it to hold a plant, or is that a convenient fiction we've assigned it? Editor: That's an interesting point. I hadn’t considered its title might be somewhat… misleading. It could very well be a standalone object, perhaps intended to just explore geometric patterns in three dimensions. Curator: Precisely! Or perhaps a whimsical commentary on the artificiality of taming nature within our homes. Each of those pointy projections adds a sort of rebellious energy, doesn’t it? Imagine them as miniature guardians. Editor: That’s such a different lens. I originally saw severity and rigid structure, but your take gives it such lively intention. So, is it a functional object disguised as sculpture, or vice versa? Curator: Perhaps that’s the magic of art: its inherent refusal to be easily pigeonholed. Instead, it lives in that space where function and form can playfully intermingle! Editor: I’ll definitely never look at a simple plant stand the same way again. Curator: Wonderful! Because the ordinary, you know, is usually anything BUT.