Spinning Wheel c. 1939

Editor: Here we have "Spinning Wheel" from around 1939, done in watercolor by Virgil Liberto. I’m really struck by how meticulously he’s rendered every little detail of the machine. It’s quite a technical drawing, but in soft, muted tones. How do you interpret a piece like this? Art Historian: What I see first and foremost is the artifact as symbol. The spinning wheel instantly evokes a bygone era. Its function speaks of homespun industry, but on a deeper level, what does it *mean*? It represents the domestic sphere, primarily, traditionally occupied by women. Ask yourself what happens when we elevate an object associated with one sphere of life into the fine art realm. What sort of value do we assign? Editor: I never thought of it that way before. I guess it almost makes the act of spinning…sacred? In a way. Art Historian: Perhaps. It asks us to remember not just the object itself, but all the labour, time, and stories woven into it. A single thread connects us back through generations, connecting the spinner and the final crafted work. Editor: So, even something as straightforward as a realistic watercolor can become incredibly complex. It becomes a memory object. Art Historian: Precisely. Look at how carefully the artist details each imperfection in the aged wood, making a link between utility and decay, the cyclical nature of all material things. What story does it suggest to you now? Editor: Well, it definitely moves beyond just being an old machine. Now I'm thinking about the lives of the women who would've used this, their stories woven into cloth. It's a potent reminder of labor, domesticity, and history. Art Historian: Wonderful! I learned that seeing can also be an entry to collective memory. Editor: I'll remember to question beyond just the "what" in the work, also question the why.