-Streetcar- still bank 1891

Curator: Well, this little guy packs a punch of nostalgia. What are your initial thoughts? Editor: Immediately, I'm seeing industrialization, a touch of childhood whimsy, and a big question mark around accessibility. It's a dense, brown little world, isn’t it? Curator: Absolutely! We’re looking at a cast iron still bank, shaped like a streetcar. Made by the Columbia Grey Iron Company around 1891. It’s housed right here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. There is something so innocent, yet also quite sturdy. Like a tiny fortress of finance! Editor: And who exactly was being encouraged to fill up this 'fortress'? Who had the spare change to drop into a novelty bank, and who was systemically denied those opportunities? These kinds of objects often reveal societal inequalities masked by cuteness. Curator: That's such a critical point. On one level, you can imagine a child delighting in saving their pennies, dreaming of future rides on a streetcar. But simultaneously, there's an undeniable connection to economic disparities of the late 19th century and who had access to capital. Editor: Precisely. Streetcars themselves were symbols of urban progress, but that progress wasn't shared equally. Segregation on public transport, unequal job opportunities – this little bank inadvertently reflects all of that. Curator: I think you're spot-on. And the materiality reinforces this too. It's not some lightweight trinket, it is HEAVY. Solid metal, you know. Very permanent-feeling object. It communicates durability. Editor: The weight of industry, the weight of history, the weight of unfulfilled promises... It is all encapsulated in a kid's bank. The patina alone tells a story! Curator: Indeed. So, we started with what appeared to be a quaint, vintage artifact and have uncovered multiple layers of social and economic implications. Isn't it marvelous how an object, however small, can offer such insights? Editor: That is the fascinating paradox of studying artifacts like these, isn't it? Their simplicity is deceiving, their potential to spark conversation, hopefully leading to actionable social transformation.