Stuffed Bureau Cover c. 1936

Editor: So, here we have Irene Schaefer's "Stuffed Bureau Cover," a drawing from around 1936. It's primarily pencil on paper, though it feels lighter, airier, almost like lace. It reminds me of a forgotten craft pattern. What strikes you when you look at it? Curator: Ah, a ghost of domesticity, wouldn’t you say? I find myself drawn into this quiet rebellion against utility. A bureau cover… meant to protect, but here, just a suggestion, an ephemeral drawing of what *could* be. It’s like dreaming of housework, rather than doing it! And those floral arrangements – almost bursting forth, aren't they? Perhaps Schaefer is playing with the idea of nature trying to reclaim the stiff formality of domestic spaces. Or am I projecting again? What do *you* make of these contained explosions? Editor: I hadn't thought about it as a rebellion, more like…a gentle suggestion. But "dreaming of housework" is spot on! It *is* odd to memorialize something so…ordinary. Curator: Ordinary made extraordinary! Isn’t that the heart of it all? Turning the mundane into something worthy of contemplation. The very act of rendering this, of choosing these particular forms, it's an act of defiance against the relentless march of daily life. Do you think she saw beauty in this intended cover or something else? Editor: Perhaps it's a testament to finding beauty in the everyday, even in something as simple as a bureau cover. Like pressing flowers. Curator: A lovely thought; it's really got me pondering her interior landscape. Something to chew on, isn’t it? Editor: Definitely! It's made me look at domestic objects with new eyes, that's for sure.