Scène uit de komedie Adelphoe van Terentius 1716

Bernard Picart etched this scene from Terentius's "Adelphoe," likely in 1726, capturing a moment of high drama. The characters, dressed in togas, gesture emphatically, their raised hands speaking volumes. Consider this gesture—the open palm, the raised arm. It echoes across millennia, from ancient Roman oratory to Renaissance depictions of saints and prophets, each using the hand to convey authority, supplication, or divine inspiration. We see it even today, stripped of its original context, in political rallies or theatrical performances. Yet, the meaning shifts. In Rome, it was a sign of civic engagement; in religious art, a conduit for grace. Here, in Picart's etching, it’s a tool of comedy, perhaps mocking the very traditions it invokes. The emotional intensity, however, remains potent, engaging our subconscious understanding of power and communication. This is the life of the image—not a linear progression, but a cyclical return, each era imbuing old forms with new significance, revealing the enduring power of visual symbols.