Amos Rusie, Pitcher, Indianapolis, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes 1889

Editor: So this is "Amos Rusie, Pitcher, Indianapolis," from 1889. It's an albumen print, part of a baseball card series for Old Judge Cigarettes. It has this sort of sepia tone. What's really striking is the formality of the pose; it's almost like a classical portrait. What catches your eye in this image? Curator: You know, what jumps out is the dissonance – the high art aspirations colliding with commercial intentions. Imagine someone, a century from now, trying to understand *us* through our protein bar wrappers, say. It speaks to how meaning is layered, accidental almost. Do you think Rusie felt like he was participating in an artful act? Editor: That's a good question! It's hard to know what he was thinking back then. I’m also fascinated by how posed it is; not what you'd expect from a sporting image today. Curator: Exactly! The stillness suggests an attempt to freeze a moment of idealized strength and grace, an attempt that's both timeless and hopelessly bound to its specific era. The cigarette brand looms like a little dark joke too, doesn’t it? What does the image whisper to you? Editor: It feels like a snapshot of a different time, when baseball was young. More posed, maybe a little naive. Curator: "Naive" is interesting. Or perhaps “earnest”? Early photography often carries this quality - the sheer laboriousness of image-making back then added to the sense of wanting to be believable. What stories could this image tell? Editor: That tension you pointed out—between commerce and art—really does reframe it. It is so much more complex. I like that! Curator: Precisely. Images often hold contradictory realities in tandem. It’s about savoring these delightful ambivalences, isn’t it? It seems that these photos are, unexpectedly, far from just being about baseball, isn’t it?