Sleigh Chair c. 1937

Curator: Here we have Florence Truelson's "Sleigh Chair," created around 1937. It’s rendered with watercolor and coloured pencil on paper, a rather charming piece if I may say. Editor: Wow, that chair has seen things, hasn’t it? It looks like a throne abandoned in a haunted wood, so forlorn. All those browns and greens hint at dampness and decay, yet… also a strange kind of resilience. Curator: You've touched on something interesting there. During the Depression, such depictions of rural life, even in decay, spoke to a yearning for simpler times, a connection to the land. Editor: Land? This feels like something the earth is reclaiming! It's beautiful, but not in a polished, pretty way. I imagine the seat creaking, telling stories of everyone who ever parked themselves there, under sun or rain. It reminds me of the wisdom and hardiness of things discarded and found. Curator: Indeed, this work can be understood as reflecting on the shifting social landscape. Many artists chose to focus on depicting common objects imbued with a sense of history and belonging to document a quickly disappearing America. It creates a counterpoint to urbanization. Editor: Right! The worn textures. This piece reminds me of those songs people make about finding a perfectly broken instrument, and coaxing a unique voice out of something wrecked. Curator: The deliberate rendering in watercolor gives the form both an ethereal and documentary quality that makes it an excellent social record. The very choice to depict a commonplace chair elevates it, forcing viewers to contemplate it's function in ordinary lives. Editor: Maybe it's the subtle rendering or the muted tones, but there’s something about the honesty of its imperfections that really strikes a chord. It reminds me, this little watercolor painting, how things loved and worn acquire a character all their own. Curator: So, it seems that Truelson manages to infuse this everyday item with social commentary and also enduring symbolic value. Editor: Yes, it makes me see beauty in the unexpected. Not all beauty has to be gleaming.