Cast Iron Gate c. 1936

Editor: This is Al Curry’s “Cast Iron Gate,” dating from around 1936. It’s rendered with etching and watercolor. It's pretty and ornate. There’s a delicate, almost nostalgic feel to it. What strikes you most about this piece? Curator: The first thing that jumps out is the contrast between the solidity of the subject and the fragility of the medium. You’ve got this robust metal gate rendered in watercolour – such a light and airy thing to capture something so seemingly immovable. It's almost playful, isn't it? Do you notice how the background is suggested more than described, it's as if memory informs what we see here more than the present? Editor: That’s a beautiful way to put it. It does feel like a memory. It’s not photo-realistic at all. I love how the ironwork is so detailed and elaborate, all those swirls and floral designs, whereas the wall behind is almost ethereal. Was this sort of ornamentation common then? Curator: Absolutely. Think of the Art Deco movement—the love of symmetry, of intricate detail, of transforming everyday objects into artworks. These weren't just gates, but rather statements, aspirations toward beauty and order, frozen in time like this piece. Also, metal was quite precious during that era due to wars, the iron used was often from old items and remelted, what do you make of that fact being depicted by way of a watercolor painting? Editor: That makes the whole piece even more poignant, somehow. Seeing something so solid and functional portrayed with such delicacy... it's as if the painting captures not just a physical object but a fleeting moment, a memory of that object and maybe society too. Curator: Exactly! I initially took this for granted. The fragility contrasts sharply with the solid feeling given to it by the metallic effect that only watercolor can portray in this setting. And maybe a bit of hope in that transient nature, you see, that everything, even the most stubborn iron gates, are eventually swallowed up by time, one brushstroke at a time.