The postcard “Craze” took hold of the early 1900’s, before
Twitter and Facebook, automobiles and airplanes and the widespread use of
light bulbs. The world embraced them for the size and convenience. They were
easier to send than other types of mail, carrying fashion and feeling in
less than twenty-four square inches. The Postcard Age, an
exhibit appearing at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, unveils the larger narrative
of the postcard. The display, donated entirely by Leonard Lauder, forces
us to think about the meaning of the cards, which were inherently created to
fly around as separate entities, as a whole.
The exhibit, made of a mere 400 cards from Lauder’s
120,000-collection, is grouped by trends and categories. There is a wall for
amusements, showcasing the drawings of the Eiffel Tower before France knew to
keep the building as a permanent fixture; mountain landscapes; circuses and
carousels. There is a section dedicated to the women’s suffrage movement and
another wall displaying the cards sent to soldiers during World War I. There is a space for the fitness and
recreation fads that were spurred by the six-day workweek and a wall displaying
famous images from the early days of advertising and technology.
It was these cards, stacked in piles and public places and
sent across the country—that educated us about new traditions, activities and
products. One set features fashionable women performing various home-making
activities during the years when electricity was making its way into everyone’s household. She blow dries her hair, prepares the coffee and applies powder to
her face by lamplight. Without saying a word, the pictures imply that to be desirable and loved, women needed electricity. Years
later, electricity is no longer a part of the discussion. It’s simply a part of
our lives.
As with anything, the view of many is more powerful than the
view of something on its own. The Postcard Age is a compelling collection that
allows viewers to contemplate art, economic development, gender issues, love and
war at the same time. When taken in together, they make us realize that nothing
in our history truly stands on its own.
For me, postcards have served as an attempt to capture the
essence of an experience before I have to leave it behind. I purchased them
Disney World when I was seven years old. I
bought a bag while traveling Thailand, of Ayutthaya’s ancient ruins and of the
colorful tuk-tuk’s that carted tourists around.
Every time I placed the stamp on
the upper right corner before sending it the recipient, I’d think: “this just
doesn’t do it justice.”
And was true—it didn’t. Our view of the world is much bigger
than a postcard could ever emulate. But, if we could look at all of our postcards
at once, tacked up on one big wall, I’m sure we’d feel differently. As we keep
moving forward into our never-ending desire for efficiency and more—postcards serve
as a reminder of what has struck our fancy, caught our attention, and of all of
the tiny things that make us who we are.
No comments:
Post a Comment