Crockery Pitcher c. 1938

Curator: Oh, I adore the earthy feel to this. It’s titled "Crockery Pitcher," an artwork crafted around 1938, as far as we know. Ernest A. Towers Jr. used watercolor and drawing to capture it. A striking image of everyday life! Editor: My first thought is fairytale. Or perhaps a well-loved, passed-down object in a children’s story? It has that kind of warm, reassuring, yet slightly fantastical air about it. The deep browns and golden highlights are lovely, but the illustrations bring in so many narratives. Curator: Indeed. And if we peer into these "narratives," we find ourselves navigating a mini-encyclopedia of symbols. Notice the animals. The hare leaping conveys fertility, renewal, almost reckless energy, stark against the dormant fox that makes up the handle. It’s that beautiful play of opposites. Editor: That handle *is* something! So whimsical! Almost like the fox is overseeing whatever might be poured out from the pitcher, making sure no shenanigans occur. As a whole piece, there’s something almost alchemic, you know? Blending the domestic with mythic, ordinary vessels turning into containers of potent story. Curator: Absolutely. The artist is consciously drawing from a very deep well of shared mythologies. He brings forth what was familiar and transforms it, embedding archetypes into something one might drink water from! Isn't it compelling how common forms carry a powerful psychological weight? A rabbit on the side isn't just decoration, it has layers! Editor: Exactly. Makes one consider the other, perhaps invisible stories that our everyday objects whisper to us. Everything's loaded, right? From the specific tilt of that handle to the specific menagerie it houses, this illustration sings. Curator: I believe that’s why it is such an enduring work. The beauty resides in the layers. This illustration reveals how deeply intertwined we are with both nature and symbolism— it’s all reflected back. Editor: Right? Well, now I might start seeing ancient archetypes in my coffee mug. All I know is next time I’m pouring some tea, I’ll look a little bit closer.