Design for a Pen and Ink Stand 19th century

Curator: Oh, look, what an intriguing object. Is that a miniature temple of some sort, or… Editor: Well, according to the museum, this is an early 19th-century watercolor drawing titled "Design for a Pen and Ink Stand." It's attributed to an anonymous artist, showcasing decorative arts from that period. Curator: Pen and ink stand, huh? All gold and silver. It looks almost alien, not in a sci-fi way, but like something imagined rather than observed. Makes me wonder who even owned something like that, dripping in ostentation. I find the lions-paw feet quite cute in their absurdity. Editor: Given the emphasis on detail and symmetry, I see a reflection of the socio-political environment of its time—perhaps British colonialism, and the exoticization of artistry. The use of expensive-looking metals seems to mimic displays of power and access to resources. Consider the context of what was considered art, what was craftsmanship, and what was outright appropriation. Curator: You're making me rethink this silly pen stand, in all of its shiny excessiveness! Still, there's an appealing fantasy element, too. It’s so obviously a construction, and the colors have faded into such dreamy states. Did they not have photographs back then? Because if not, it kind of resembles someone half-remembering a dream about an antique store. Editor: Exactly! I think what is revealed and concealed here gives voice to the tensions inherent to a history shaped by imperialism. Who decides how these stories are recorded? Whose pens are creating these inked documents? These pieces are not just aesthetically intriguing, but relics and reflections of very specific histories. Curator: Okay, now I’m completely hooked. Next time I need an outlandish design, I’ll consult our anonymous friend here! There is such a fine line between fabulous and absurd, and the work dances right on that line. Editor: Precisely. It encourages us to contemplate the line between ornamentation and purpose and whose purpose it serves within those structures of power. It certainly makes you rethink your own relationship to writing and archiving, doesn't it?