Aikenhead before 1878

Editor: This gelatin-silver print, titled "Aikenhead" by Thomas Annan, dates back to before 1878. It portrays a building shrouded somewhat by the bare branches of a large tree. The mood feels rather somber and removed from any sense of current life. What strikes you about it? Curator: It’s a very intriguing image precisely *because* of its sober quality. Focusing on the material realities, consider the production of the gelatin-silver print itself. This wasn't simply about capturing a picturesque scene; it's about deploying a specific photographic process in a period undergoing intense industrial and social change. Who owned this Aikenhead? And for what purposes might they use an image like this? Editor: Well, from the bookplate and adjacent text, it seems to document a historical residence, perhaps for archival reasons or to showcase some status... so the photography is less about *artistic* impression and more about property documentation? Curator: Exactly. But consider also *how* that property is being documented. The very act of creating a gelatin-silver print, with its associated labor and cost, elevates the subject. This is a specific class displaying its wealth, both owning the residence and commissioning the photograph of the residence. How does that awareness shift how you read this photograph now? Editor: It shifts the focus, almost making the building an object to be consumed visually, or materially, rather than simply lived in. It feels… transactional, now that you mention it. Like a commodity. Curator: Precisely! And this reading illuminates not only the intentions of the property owners, but also the entire industry and economic ecosystem that produced it and ultimately consumed images like this. Editor: That's a completely different way to approach the image, moving away from just what's shown in the frame. Thanks, that's given me a lot to think about. Curator: And that shift, to interrogate materiality and the modes of production, can fundamentally alter how we see art.