Glass 1935 - 1942

Editor: So, this is Janet Riza’s "Glass," likely created between 1935 and 1942, and it seems to be primarily watercolor or a similar drawing medium. I’m immediately struck by how delicate and ephemeral it feels – like you could almost breathe and the glass would shatter. What draws your eye when you look at this piece? Curator: You know, ephemeral is the perfect word for it. It whispers of holding something precious, something that needs gentle care, doesn’t it? I’m caught by the realism rendered with such a light touch; it feels less like documentation and more like a memory of a glass, you know? Perhaps a beloved candy jar? I wonder what it held, literally and figuratively, for Riza? What do you imagine? Editor: Ooh, I like the candy jar idea! It definitely has a domestic vibe. I’m curious about the sort of muted color palette, too. Was this typical for the time, or do you think it was a conscious choice to emphasize the fragility? Curator: It’s interesting you picked up on the palette! It absolutely contributes. Given the likely timeframe, there’s a definite nod to realism, but without the drama or saturated color of earlier movements. It's muted, yes, but not devoid of feeling. It's a kind of quiet realism. A little melancholic, even. Think about the pre-war atmosphere, that tension held delicately like… well, like glass. Do you sense that too? Editor: I do now! The simplicity is almost unsettling. It's not just a glass, is it? It’s like a fragile moment captured just before something changes. Curator: Exactly! It's in these quiet observations, don’t you think, that art truly speaks. I think, and it could very well be wrong. Editor: It is almost hauntingly beautiful. I would've walked by it before, I'd probably consider art only stuff with strong political agendas, for instance. I like it a lot actually. Curator: Me too. You were right with fragility, I would definitely call it this way now. It makes me wonder what other truths are hiding in plain sight.