Grondvervoer te Fosibergi 1900 - 1913

Editor: So, this gelatin-silver print by Augusta Curiel, "Grondvervoer te Fosibergi," probably taken between 1900 and 1913… it strikes me as a very sobering, almost melancholic image. The dense jungle pressing in on the tiny train. What stories do you think it holds? Curator: Oh, I love that word "melancholic" for this! It absolutely captures the sense of human endeavor, represented by that little train chugging along, pitted against the overwhelming force of nature. Think about the context, though. This is a photograph, a document of sorts, likely commissioned to show progress. How much is hidden beneath that veneer? Editor: Hidden, like what? I guess I hadn’t really considered the colonial aspect of it all… Curator: Precisely! Imagine the lives impacted, the resources extracted. The photograph shows a track being laid. The landscape is ravaged by tree felling on the left, hinting at deeper, perhaps darker, stories. What is being carried on that little train? And at what cost? That interplay, between intended narrative and the whispers of untold stories, fascinates me. Editor: It’s almost… a photograph hiding a history painting. Is that right? Like, we see the progress but feel the impact. Curator: Precisely. And the sharp contrast…the dark forest swallowing the little train. Almost a memento mori of sorts. Curiel's eye sees more than she perhaps even intended, and allows us to glimpse beyond. Editor: Wow, I'll definitely never look at historical photographs the same way again! It's like peeling back layers of time and meaning. Curator: Indeed, the photograph is not only what it shows, but what it doesn't.