Secretary c. 1937

Editor: So, this is Bernard Krieger's "Secretary," a drawing from around 1937. It looks like an architect's blueprint – maybe a study for a really beautiful desk? The precision is striking, almost calming. What do you see in this piece? Curator: It's like a secret language, isn't it? I imagine Krieger hunched over this, lost in the quiet calculation of angles and curves. I find the contrast between the rigid lines and the almost sensual descriptions – "satin wood inlays outlined by ebony" – quite evocative. Do you feel the tension there? It is almost an ode to Art Deco. A secret obsession memorialized on aged paper. Editor: Absolutely. It's that tension that pulls me in. All those details feel so intimate, a window into a craftsman's mind. I wonder who A. Hamilton was? The inscription mentions this desk belonged to him. Curator: That's the beautiful mystery, isn’t it? Maybe a commission, maybe just a friend. Or maybe an imagined desk and its owner – Krieger projecting a whole world onto this object. Which is why the notations of how it looks, how the tambour slides back feel important! Tell me, did you notice the handwriting near the top? It’s uneven and gives off an almost intimate journal-like feeling… Editor: It definitely has that personal touch. But what is that handwriting? A scale, notes for the carpenter, or an ode to furniture? Is that really “personal”? Curator: Both! A blend – the intersection between function and dreaming. That makes a nice summation – a functional poem. Editor: Right. Now I see Krieger not just drawing a desk but documenting a relationship between the maker and the made. I’ll never look at technical drawings the same way again.