Man betaalt kaartje voor een gemaskerd bal 1838

Editor: So, here we have "Man Pays for a Ticket for a Masked Ball," a lithograph and etching printed by Paul Gavarni in 1838. There’s almost a feeling of voyeurism, like we’re peeking into a slightly scandalous scene. Everyone is crammed together, heading into the "Bal". What strikes you most about it? Curator: You know, it’s that sense of cramped humanity elbowing its way towards… well, towards pleasure, or perhaps just distraction. Gavarni was brilliant at capturing the pulse of Parisian society. I imagine that at a Masked Ball anything might happen and probably did! Consider how he renders each figure – slightly grotesque, each caught in a moment of eager anticipation or barely-veiled avarice. Doesn't the gentleman at the ticket booth, carefully examining his client through a spyglass, hint at the decadence of the period? Are we, the viewers, equally complicit in that transaction? Editor: I hadn't really considered it as something dark. I was more thinking about how sharply observed it all is, almost like street photography, but from nearly two centuries ago. I also noticed that some details are emphasized more than others. For example, the woman closest to the ticket booth seems very 'put together,' while other attendees in the queue are drawn less attractively and seem less detailed. Curator: Ah, the selective emphasis! It reminds me of a theatre stage, doesn't it? Gavarni directs our gaze, drawing our attention to certain players in this little drama. Notice that one stockinged leg and the lady peering over the bureau counter. Is that all a bit tongue-in-cheek, a little mischievous of him, you think? Editor: That makes sense, like he’s inviting us to find our own meaning. Thanks, that gave me a new lens to see the scene through. Curator: Absolutely. I think sometimes with pieces like this it is all about where and how we are looking for our enjoyment, you know? Glad to share that, for me, this old print gives such a current read on those basic instincts.