Henry Ford's greatest ambition, in his words, was to "lift farm drudgery off of flesh and blood and lay it on steel and motors." Ford was successful inasmuch as the advance of the internal combustion engine, along with other inventions of the industrial revolution, has in many parts of the world obliterated historically accepted notions of labor. The tractor and steam locomotive increased production and distribution, and simultaneously shattered people's understanding of time and changed their physical relationship with their work. The celebration of what many hailed as the dawning of an age of new freedoms was seen and heard across the globe, the praises of speed and convenience sung by captivated artists, authors, politicians, and designers. In post-industrial nations, few people actually work with the artifacts of this golden age, many of which are found in antique stores or as reproductions and toys in gift shops. The nostalgic, nearly propagandistic romance of the industrial tools and graphics of the early and mid-20th century continue to satisfy collectors and enthusiasts, the aesthetic of a by-gone era produced in perpetuity.

Conceptually, I find myself drawn to the almost naïve manner in which these tools were originally
embraced: as harbingers of solutions, rather than new problems. Unfortunately for many, of course, industrialization introduced a lower quality of life, and a greater separation between social classes. As it turned out, increased efficiency, more work, and faster speeds has not necessarily translated into the new freedom everybody expected. This intersection of romance and reality is where I see these prints at work.