Eagle-Eyed Viewers Spot 'iPhone' in 1937 Artwork

Now and then, an old painting resurfaces and throws the internet into chaos. People zoom in, take screenshots, and start asking questions that no art historian can answer without throwing in a few disclaimers.

The latest example? A mural from 1937 that's got people wondering whether someone accidentally painted a time traveler into the middle of a 17th-century colonial scene.

The painting in question is called Mr. Pynchon and the Settling of Springfield, and it was created by Italian-American artist Umberto Romano. It’s a large, colorful piece that depicts the early days of Springfield, Massachusetts, centered around William Pynchon, the city’s founder.

It’s all very dramatic and busy, with dozens of figures frozen in moments of conflict, curiosity, and cultural tension. But it’s not the colonists or even Pynchon himself that people are focused on.

What’s caught everyone’s eye is a Native American man sitting in the foreground. He’s holding something in his hand, looking intently at it, with his pinky and thumb extended—basically the universal “I’m on a call” gesture.

The object is rectangular, shiny, and perfectly phone-shaped. The pose is eerily familiar to anyone who’s ever stepped outside and seen someone pacing down the street mid-conversation. Naturally, the internet had a field day with it.

"Mr. Pynchon and the Settling of Springfield"

The image started making the rounds on Reddit and Twitter, with people trying to piece together what the man might be doing—or holding. Some were convinced it looked just like an iPhone. Others leaned into the absurdity.

"Looks like they are going through the tied-up guy's browser history. Thinking maybe we should untie him. He seems to be into this kind of thing," one Reddit user joked, pointing out the unsettling dynamic between the ‘iPhone guy’ and the nearby bound figure.

Another chimed in:

"Sure as hell does. Including the look on the guy's face, like he just saw his most recent post got downvoted into oblivion."

Then came the Twitter commentary, with people asking what model of phone he might be using.

"Is it a gold iPhone?" one user asked. Another guessed “Space Grey,” because, of course, if you're going to time travel, you might as well do it in style.Smithsonian National Postal Museum

What looks like an iPhone is likely just a mirror—our modern minds love seeing tech in old art.

All jokes aside, there’s a rational explanation or two. Art historians have suggested that the man is probably holding a small mirror.

At the time, hand mirrors were common trade goods, and the shape fits. Another possibility is that he’s inspecting a shiny axe head or another piece of metal. It just happens to look a little too much like a smartphone to the modern eye.

Romano seems to have a talent for painting scenes that stir up this kind of speculation. In another one of his works, a woman appears to be staring into what looks like an iPad.

Again, this was decades before anything like that existed. So either he had a wild imagination, or we’re all just great at projecting modern tech onto historical imagery.

And this isn’t the only time people have spotted what looks like modern objects in classic paintings. A 17th-century piece once went viral because one of the figures appeared to be wearing Nike sneakers.

Of course, closer analysis revealed it wasn’t a sneaker at all—just a trick of the light, some stylized folds, and a bit of overactive imagination.

wikipedia

That’s probably what’s happening here, too. Still, it’s fun to let the mind wander. Maybe the man in the painting really was getting a message that changed everything.

Or maybe Romano just happened to paint a well-polished item in a way that now, in the age of smartphones, feels a little too on the nose.

Whether it's coincidence, artistic license, or something weirder, these kinds of “anomalies” in old art keep people talking. And if nothing else, they’re a great excuse to look at history with fresh eyes and a bit of humor.

Understanding the Psychology Behind Pareidolia

The phenomenon of spotting an iPhone in a 1937 artwork can be attributed to 'pareidolia,' a psychological response that causes people to see patterns, like faces or familiar objects, where none exist. Dr. Adam Grant, an organizational psychologist, explains, "Our brains are wired to find meaning in randomness, which is why we often see familiar shapes in abstract images." His insights highlight how our cognitive processes influence our perception of the world around us. For more on this topic, visit Dr. Adam Grant's website.

Moreover, this occurrence can also be linked to 'apophenia,' the tendency to perceive connections and meaning between unrelated things. This psychological phenomenon has been discussed by Dr. Rick Hanson, a neuropsychologist, who states, "Our brains are wired to find patterns, which can sometimes lead us to see connections that aren't really there." For further insights on this topic, visit his professional website at Rick Hanson.

The Role of Cognitive Bias

Another psychological explanation could involve 'confirmation bias.' This cognitive bias leads people to see what they want to see or expect to see. Dr. Daniel Goleman, a renowned expert in emotional intelligence, states, "Our perceptions are often shaped by our expectations, which can lead us to misinterpret ambiguous stimuli." When viewers are primed by modern technology, they may be more likely to interpret ambiguous images as familiar digital devices. Dr. Daniel Goleman

Analysis & Alternative Approaches

In conclusion, the act of identifying an iPhone within a 1937 painting can be understood through psychological principles such as pareidolia, apophenia, and confirmation bias. These phenomena showcase our brains' remarkable ability to perceive patterns and draw meaning from our environment, whether accurate or not. Through a deeper understanding of these cognitive processes, we can become more aware of our mental habits and potentially mitigate the influence of these biases on our perceptions and decisions. Frontiers in Psychology (2014)