Still Life 1917

Editor: This is M.C. Escher's "Still Life," created as a woodcut in 1917. It depicts two vessels: one tall and cylindrical, and a smaller stemmed glass beside it. The limited color palette gives it quite a stark, graphic feel, despite being a fairly traditional subject matter. What stands out to you? Curator: Given the socio-political context of 1917, at the height of World War One, this print is interesting for what it *doesn’t* depict. Many artists grappled directly with the war, either in support or protest. Escher’s choice of such an intimate, domestic scene almost feels like a deliberate turning away from public anxieties. What do you make of that decision? Editor: I hadn't considered it as a conscious decision to ignore the war! Maybe the geometric simplification of the forms is a similar kind of withdrawal into order and control, when the world outside was chaotic. Curator: Precisely. It also encourages us to consider the institutional role of art during wartime. Was art supposed to serve as propaganda, a distraction, or a critical reflection of society? Escher, at this stage in his career, seems to be experimenting with a more formal approach, perhaps influenced by the burgeoning avant-garde movements. But how effective is a "silent" art in such times? Editor: So the silence itself speaks, by making us question what art should be doing? That’s a compelling way to look at it. It shows how much context influences how we view even a seemingly simple still life. Curator: Indeed. The "Still Life," by its very existence during that historical period, becomes a statement—albeit an ambiguous one—on the function and purpose of art. We might question, does an artist have a responsibility to engage with conflict, or can retreat be another strategy for sense-making? Editor: This has completely transformed how I view this artwork. I will have to look into how Escher responded to that societal push and pull throughout his lifetime!