Flask c. 1845 - 1865

Curator: What a fascinating artifact. We are looking at a glass flask, likely produced by the Willington Glass Co. sometime between 1845 and 1865. Editor: Its amber hue and the somewhat crude rendering of the eagle give it a surprisingly solemn character, wouldn't you say? It almost feels weighted, somber. Curator: Well, consider the era. The flask emerges during a period rife with political tensions, building up to the Civil War. The "Liberty" inscription combined with the eagle isn't merely decorative; it’s a statement, a proclamation of allegiance, and perhaps a desperate clinging to ideals of freedom during deepening divisions and inequalities. Editor: But the symmetry—or lack thereof—in the eagle’s wings, the slightly imperfect embossing. It all contributes to an asymmetrical yet balanced whole. Is it possible that these features contribute to a more emotional reading, a more grounded reading, by virtue of avoiding that kind of high-style neoclassical perfection that was also available at the time? Curator: Precisely. Mass production, while democratizing access, also meant a compromise in finish. However, that “imperfection” brings us closer to the lived experiences of everyday Americans. Who was this flask for? What were they drinking? And what did "liberty" mean to them when they raised it? The glass itself becomes a vessel, holding not just spirits, but also aspirations, anxieties, and contradictions of the era. The object really invites consideration of class and nation in antebellum America. Editor: You’re drawing out this compelling link between the form, content, and broader social anxieties. Curator: Thank you, my aim is that people think about what kind of world this held, this “Liberty.” Editor: Seeing the world reflected in it, almost. I’m taking away a renewed appreciation for how the slightest imperfection in design can shift the entire register of meaning.