Paste end paper with overall pattern of red, blue, and yellow flowers 1800 - 1900

Editor: Here we have an endpaper from between 1800 and 1900, artist unknown, with an all-over floral pattern in red, blue, and yellow. It’s so dense; what do you make of it? Curator: This floral pattern immediately situates itself within a long and often gendered history of the decorative arts. Think about the cultural values projected onto “feminine” crafts like textile design and floral arrangement during that period. Does this seemingly innocuous endpaper reinforce or subvert those values? Editor: Reinforce, probably? I mean, flowers...decorative arts... Curator: Perhaps, but consider how this print pushes the boundaries of typical floral designs. It's almost overwhelming. The repetition borders on obsessive. It mirrors a society on the verge of mass production and mass consumerism. Do the flowers retain a connection with nature, or has something shifted? Editor: So, you're saying the abundance actually says something about anxieties of the time? Curator: Exactly. And let's think about endpapers themselves. They're hidden inside the book. Is there a subversive commentary about who gets to be seen and valued within this artwork? Were these floral motifs only deemed appropriate for hidden labor? Does the beauty, now on display in the Met, complicate or contradict our reading of this past moment? Editor: I never would have thought of looking at it that way. Thinking about this kind of repetitive labor and considering value beyond aesthetics is pretty powerful. Thanks. Curator: Absolutely! It’s by questioning those initial assumptions that we can unearth richer histories and challenge entrenched power structures within the narrative of art itself.