Cigar Store Indian c. 1937

Editor: So, this is Eugene Croe’s "Cigar Store Indian," done around 1937. It’s a drawing, mostly watercolor, and it's striking how folk-arty it feels. I mean, the colors and proportions are exaggerated. How do you see it? Curator: You know, I feel a peculiar sense of melancholy. Those vibrant colours, that slightly cartoonish depiction... it almost masks a deeper unease. These figures, "cigar store Indians," were ubiquitous, these strange, silent sentinels posted outside shops. I think Croe is quietly pointing out the strange spectacle that these figures presented at that time. It makes one wonder, doesn't it, about the ways we've represented—or, rather, misrepresented—Native American cultures? How does the artwork speak to *you* in terms of appropriation versus appreciation, for instance? Editor: That's an interesting point; I had been more focused on its simple composition. I can definitely see how the image raises questions about representation. It kind of romanticizes the figure. Curator: Exactly. Croe's cartoonish, exaggerated features—while typical of folk art—risk turning a person into a caricature. How much nuance is really allowed here? This piece lives in that tense space between respecting a tradition and perhaps unintentionally flattening it. It invites contemplation, not just about artistic style, but about how cultural narratives get shaped. Editor: This really encourages me to consider historical contexts and potential cultural issues. Curator: Exactly! It’s about asking, "What stories are *not* being told?" So I am grateful for Eugene Croe's artwork because it provokes a thoughtful questioning about representation.