New York City Brooklyn Bridge 1877

Editor: This lithograph print, "New York City Brooklyn Bridge" by Currier and Ives, dating back to 1877, has such a serene quality. It makes me feel like I'm transported back in time to witness the iconic bridge as a marvel of the world. I am very intrigued; what do you find particularly fascinating or noteworthy about this piece? Curator: Fascinating you say, my dear student? Oh, absolutely! It's not just a bridge; it's a testament to ambition! Picture this: America is young, scrappy, hungry for innovation and showing off a marvel to the world! It's a symbol of connection, literally bridging divides, between two burgeoning cities, full of history and ambition, don’t you think? But look closely at the bridge itself - does its sheer size overwhelm you, even a bit? The tiny ships below, the city receding in the distance—it gives one pause, doesn't it? Editor: It does! It's awe-inspiring but also a bit intimidating, now that you mention it. All that industry and architecture looming over nature. Curator: Exactly! Currier and Ives captured more than just an image. It is more than what is at face value here, this print is offering you the feeling and possibilities that lie ahead with the bridge that allows you to get there. And consider how widely distributed these prints were. Imagine, everyone could have a little piece of the future hanging in their homes. Do you get how utterly pervasive that made the feeling about expansion in that time? Editor: That makes so much sense! I hadn't considered the impact of its mass appeal. It really shaped the narrative. It almost becomes propaganda to welcome and participate in progress. Curator: Precisely! Art shaping not just taste but aspiration. And now? It whispers to us across time – a charming visual record of those aspirations. Editor: I will remember that: art shaping aspirations! It really adds another dimension to the lithograph, thank you! Curator: The pleasure was all mine, my dear. Remember, the Brooklyn Bridge is more than steel and stone, and more than a piece of paper; it’s a feeling, forever caught in time.