Candlestick c. 1936

Janet Riza drew this candlestick using graphite. It's so quiet, isn't it? I imagine Riza sitting in a dimly lit room, perhaps, candlelight flickering as she concentrates on each line, the slow buildup of tone. You can almost feel the soft touch of the graphite on paper. The surface is built up with tiny strokes, creating subtle shifts in light and shadow, a kind of whispered texture. I wonder what it was like for Riza, grappling with the forms, trying to capture the weight and volume of the metal. Was she thinking about light and shadow or was she more concerned with something else? Maybe she was interested in the shapes, the way they fit together, the patterns they made? Riza, like all artists, engages in a silent conversation with the history of art, adding her voice to the chorus of painters. It's an ongoing exchange of ideas and inspiration, each artist building upon the work of those who came before. Ultimately, it's a form of embodied expression that embraces ambiguity and celebrates the endless possibilities of seeing.