Toleware Box c. 1941

Charles Henning made this Toleware Box, and well, it’s a real charmer. It's got this worn-in, loved-to-death vibe that gets me thinking about how art is as much about the making as it is about what happens to it afterwards, all those fingerprints, dustings and layers of use! The box itself is a feast of textures and colors, even in a reproduction. The paint isn't trying to be perfect; it's drippy and uneven, which lets you know it was made by a human. I can almost smell the linseed oil. Take a closer look at the floral decorations, aren't they just fantastic? The brushstrokes are visible, raw, and full of energy. It's like Henning was having a conversation with the box, each stroke a response to the last. This piece reminds me a bit of Forrest Bess, with its obsessive attention to detail and the way it turns something ordinary into something magical. And isn't that what art is all about? It's about embracing the mess, the mistakes, and the unexpected twists and turns that happen along the way.