Leather Seat c. 1939

Here's a painted image by Gerald Transpota, who lived from 1855 to 1995, of what looks like a leather seat. The flat brown surface of the ‘leather’ stretches out before us, with decorative embellishments rendered along the borders and corners. I wonder if Transpota, in making this, thought about what it might be like to sink into that seat? Did they imagine the weight of a body, the scent of aged leather, or the stories embedded in its surface? What might it feel like to settle into the embrace of this painted seat? There’s something tenderly handmade about the repeating patterns. A kind of intimacy emerges as you trace the curves and coils. These shapes remind me of the way Eva Hesse brought vulnerability to the hard-edged language of minimalism.