Hollow Plane c. 1937

Editor: This is Samuel Faigin’s *Hollow Plane*, created around 1937 using pencil and watercolor. There’s a quiet beauty to this meticulous rendering of a common tool; it feels almost reverential. What jumps out at you when you look at it? Curator: You know, it's interesting you use the word 'reverential.' I find myself immediately wondering about Faigin's relationship with this plane. Was it a beloved tool passed down through generations? A symbol of his own craft? Or maybe he just had one kicking around his studio. Editor: A symbolic, beat-up hand-me-down—I like that thought. The details feel so personal. Curator: Exactly! It feels like the object has been carefully selected, stripped bare, and immortalized on paper. I wonder about the way he isolated the object, removing all the context. What statement is the artist trying to make about the significance of the most humble instrument? Editor: I guess it invites us to pause and see beauty in the everyday? The grain of the wood looks so tactile, even in a drawing. It definitely slows me down. Curator: Me too. I almost feel like I could pick it up and put it to use. And that little "blueprint" of the blade shape down in the corner feels like a tender nod to the craftsmanship embodied by this tool. Editor: Seeing your excitement has changed the way I see the image. The pencil and watercolor somehow soften this otherwise hard object and make me think about how the artist really looked at, rather than simply glanced at, something so commonplace. Curator: And sometimes, that's enough. Shifting the way you look at everyday objects around you!