Cast Iron Balcony Rail c. 1936

Curator: Welcome. We're standing before a preparatory drawing of a Cast Iron Balcony Rail dating from around 1936, by an artist known as Ray Price. The piece appears to be rendered using pencil on paper. Editor: It looks like architectural plans, yet there is so much heart. The drawing pulses with an intensity that those materials – metal, paper – try to belie. Those symmetrical flourishes, that central piece especially… It has the restrained wildness I admire. Curator: What’s interesting here is how Price anticipates the object's ultimate function. He's designing something intended to shape and define public space—literally dictating boundaries and access. It transforms our interaction with a building from sidewalk to interior. Editor: Right. Boundaries... So funny. That strict linearity, which almost looks computer-generated from here, yet I detect freehand touch, that soft waver. I imagine leaning over it, the salty breeze in my hair… suddenly a prisoner? It is a subtle dance, that boundary thing. Curator: And think of what cast iron represented in that era – mass production, industrial progress. By showcasing an element usually relegated to pure utility, the artist seems to challenge viewers to notice the aesthetic value inherent in ordinary, urban fixtures. Editor: It is the artist's paradox, no? To freeze-frame our experience with "the ordinary"… Make us actually *see*. I wonder, did the real-life railing ever get built this exact way, following Price’s vision, or did some practical city planner strip it all down? Curator: Records aren’t clear whether Price’s particular design became widespread. But either way, it endures as both art and an evocative blueprint of urban life and design. It brings an artistic element into how cities control access. Editor: Makes me want to build that railing right now… but in my garden, let ivy take over, turn the strict geometry to green chaos. Transform "control" into glorious surrender to nature's whim. Thanks for walking me through this. Curator: My pleasure. Thank you for bringing your personal vision.