We lived in the country, a farm family whose living standards were somewhat marginal by today’s standards but by comparison a little better than that of some of our neighbors.  In the 1930s most of the ‘art’ in our home consisted of some old photographs, a framed print of two and an occasional calendar courtesy of a local business.  The one I remember advertised two mysterious products called Black Draught and Cardui.  Most images were printed in black and white since the use of color was rare back then.  The calendar was multi-purposed.  In addition to the dates, the signs of the zodiac were given along with the phases of the moon (useful for planting gardens/crops as I recall). We did have one rather impressive framed picture of a family member of the past.  The photograph was ‘tinted‘and instead of just a head shot, he was captured standing dressed in the period clothing of the day. The glass covering the image was convex.  I do not recall him, but he had a special place in what we called our living room, a room used mainly for show and for company.  It’s where the black Norman upright piano was located  and where our gold fish bowl was placed.  I remember this since once I wanted to examine the fish more closely and in doing so, it slipped from my hand and went behind the piano.
But this ‘art’ was not the most impressionable work I recall from my boyhood.  It was not even in our home but across the road from where we lived.  My Uncle Charlie who managed the family business, Lee&Lee, lived there with his family which included his mother in law who had a room to herself at the front of the house.  It was not unusual for me to visit with her, a friendly lady who I thought was really old (ancient) but was far younger than I am now – also ancient.  She did, unfortunately have health problems and spent much of her time in her unpainted room where I would occasionally visit.  It was somewhat cluttered (no closet) with personal items, but the most remarkable items were two 16X20 framed colored pictures (lithographs) that she had hanging beside the fireplace.  You couldn’t miss either since everything in the room faced the fireplace.   One picture was of two small frightened children holding hands and walking across a rickety narrow bridge with a missing plank over a deep chasm during a fierce storm with water rushing about but with a protective winged, white flowing robed, haloed angel hovering nearby (a lithograph from a painting by German artist Lindberg Heilige Schutzenfel).  I could kind of understand that image.  But the other puzzling picture (then considered to be ‘art’ by me) presented an interpretive problem.
This picture was of a large stone cross on a tiny spit of land in a raging sea with waves lashing dangerously around amidst stormy rains and ominous clouds in the background.  That part was rather obvious although brought to me questions as to why there would be such a scene in this most unlikely place at least to the mind of a child.  But there was another element in the picture that proved to challenge understanding.  Clinging to the cross was a woman dressed in a flowing gown holding on for dear life.  That was the puzzling part.  What was she doing there in the first place?

Religious symbolism for a pre teen was not readily paramount then, and understandingly the image raised child like questions that were later answered in Sunday School.
What is art?  It’s what you want it to be.
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Bill Lee, PO Box 128,
Hamer, SC 29547