The composition on this one is superb. The framing came out just right. Exquisite clarity in the fence line, with the dimensionality receding to the right along the proper perspective. The equine details are outstanding, as flared nostrils exude confidence while the arched neck matches a perfect French curve. The quarter is set in deep focus — the mansion in the background is as clear as the withers on the thoroughbred.
Curiously, there is no reference to Fenway Park on these two bits. Decisions, decisions, we presume, and alas, the fabled Minuteman of Paul Revere’s and the Adams clan’s Massachusetts takes center stage. Doubling as a decontextualized geography primer, this quarter also sports a spot-on map of the state. The Minuteman, with musket slung across shoulder, hat askew and likely holding a pint, stands about 5 foot 10, covering up the mid-to-west central portion of the state. Although his feet stomp on Connecticut, and his hat could spill into Vermont, there is no mention of the dutiful New England neighbors. No, this one is all Massachusetts. The Bay State, they call it, and Cape Cod is prominent to the east, defining the very self-same Bay that gives the Commonwealth its nickname.
They have this tree on it and then there’s a bucket and it’s on the tree and the bucket collects maple syrup. I think that’s the berries, that idea for a quarter. Because who doesn’t love pancakes? Plus, they have the branches and all on the tree, it’s autumn, and it comes out really clearly. There’s even a syrup-collector guy there. They did a really good job. I think Vermont, and the people of Vermont, and those with any institutional ties to those within the state of Vermont should all give themselves a pat on the back.
This one has a really huge tree on it. The whole scene is basically the tree. It’s not at all like the Vermont tree, because it is full, lush, with broad leafy leaves. I know leaves are, by definition, leafy, but I point out the leafiness of these leaves just to say that the tree on this particular quarter is particularly leafy. I don’t know a synonym.
I actually forget the details of this one, except that I remember that it’s really great. It is a fine quarter. I am from Maryland, originally. Well, by originally I mean I moved there while still a child and I like the Orioles. They need middle relief. And starting pitching. I used to think they’d be good forever, until they actually began to suck forever.
I don’t have one of these. I bet it has at least one peach on it though. My wife is a Braves fan.
Everybody, except my wife, loves tall ships like those on this Jamestown-ish quarter. She also dislikes the Orioles. She wanted me to add above that they need hitting too. I said that adding “they need hitting too” was overkill, but no, she said I really should. I said forget it, because this isn’t about the hitting. She said well of course it’s not, but you’re the wisecracker here. Things haven’t been good for us recently.
It’s probably not fair to the western states that most of the best quarters are from the original colonies. But they got here first, so they get the quarter first. That’s why I don’t so much disdain Ohio for their pathetic quarter. I pity them.
My sister and I made this state up when we lived in Maryland. We said it was bounded by the borders of our yard. It was her idea, the imaginary state. Even though she is five years younger than me her emotional age always surpassed mine. Our quarter would have an ancient Japanese gingko tree. And below it, it would say “Go away!”, since the state can only be inhabited by basset hounds named Steve and the offspring of Sheila and Ralph Cohen.
Nebraska and California
I think it would be great if they mixed these up at the mint, and California got a “Corn” motif while Nebraska instead ended up with “Porn.”