Crock c. 1937 - 1938

Editor: So here we have Yolande Delasser's watercolor drawing "Crock," made around 1937 or 38. There's something so quietly beautiful about it – the humble subject matter elevated through delicate washes of color. What stands out to you about it? Curator: Ah, yes, "Crock"! For me, it's all about that vessel's silent presence. Doesn't it just *hum* with untold stories? I see the curve of a well-worn shape, rendered with such a soft touch – the slightly blurred edges whispering of use, of history. Look closer, what does it tell you? Is it just a simple container or perhaps a record keeper from long ago? Editor: I see that – it's definitely not just any old pot. That blue decoration almost looks like a folk-art tattoo. Curator: Exactly! And think about Delasser herself, sitting down to immortalize this everyday object during a time when the world outside was far from still. Do you imagine her seeing a simple object or maybe a symbol of resilience in this simple vessel, do you suppose? Editor: That makes me think about the inherent value we place, or *don’t* place, on functional items. We walk right past objects like these every day. Curator: Don't we all? It's easy to miss the artfulness inherent in utility. Art invites us to really *see* them, the lines and contours etched by life itself. Do you know what the next fascinating aspect is? Someone made that vessel by hand with all the love of the potter; Yolande did, too. She must have paused to really understand what she was rendering in paint and water. The vessel must have spoken to her, just like it does to us today. Editor: I never thought I could spend so long thinking about a crock! I will definitely be looking differently at ordinary objects from now on! Curator: Wonderful! Perhaps, every object deserves that sort of focused attention. And maybe they hold just the secrets to guide us through this life...