Pitcher c. 1936

Curator: What a gentle rendering. It makes me think of hushed mornings. Editor: Exactly! And husks, everywhere. We're looking at a drawing of a "Pitcher," made around 1936 by Louis Annino. It’s primarily pencil, with hints of charcoal that create this surprisingly tactile impression. Curator: Corn as ornamentation feels so incredibly... Midwestern Gothic! Is that a thing? Editor: Perhaps it is now. Corn has a rich symbolic life; it's all about abundance, harvest, sustenance, naturally. Think of ancient corn deities, rituals... Annino uses this common grain, and elevates the ordinary to art. There's even what seems to be drafting sketches to the side of it all, a peek behind the curtain. Curator: And the details! Each kernel carefully shaded, giving dimension to the vessel, transforming something functional into pure artistic form. It has a humble grandeur about it. I feel I should apologize for wanting to fill it with something as crass as water! Editor: Crass? Water is life! But I understand your impulse. There is an element of visual trompe l’oeil happening here as well. Our memory reads that visual information not only as “corn,” but as something solid and sturdy. The medium, in a way, vanishes, and we see an ideal form. Curator: Yes, an ideal form captured by Annino's deft hand. It makes one consider what it means to cherish our commonplace objects, and, in doing so, perhaps, sanctify our everyday existence. The whole feels like a testament to beauty inherent in simple forms. Editor: Precisely. There’s something universal in finding reverence for that cornstalk twisted into a handle, don’t you think? A gentle reminder that meaning is often closest to what nourishes us. Curator: I like that idea... It brings to mind all those simple, elemental forms: cups and wheat stalks of the Renaissance! Editor: Maybe it is always the quiet, common things which fill the artist's eye. Thanks for giving us a whole new angle on "Pitcher," and how one might view their simple cups going forward!