Vestingplattegrond van Luxemburg 1696 - 1705

Editor: So, this is "Vestingplattegrond van Luxemburg," a drawing from between 1696 and 1705 by an anonymous artist. It’s an engraving made with ink on paper. The first thing that strikes me is the sheer detail—it’s like a tiny, intricate world captured in lines. What can you tell me about it? Curator: It’s funny, isn’t it? How we turn cities into these abstract blueprints, distilling life down to lines and angles. What I find fascinating here is the performative aspect. It's not just a map; it’s a display of power. Imagine someone, back then, poring over this, planning strategies. Editor: Like a game of chess being played on the landscape itself. But, beyond the strategy, is there something else to it? Curator: Absolutely. It's an act of claiming. To map something is to possess it, in a way. And there’s an element of beauty here too, wouldn’t you agree? The precision of the lines, the way the space is organized… It almost transforms a tool of war into a piece of art. But this geometric precision does not let me feel much empathy about those times. It speaks to a period obsessed with order, where everything, even cities, could be controlled. It might not reflect accurately what cities represent today... What do you think? Editor: It makes me wonder about what's not included—the lives within those walls. You only get a sense of structures, of fortifications, but not of the bustling reality. This has been fascinating to consider. Curator: Yes, art often operates that way, inviting us to look both at what is there and what remains unseen or unsaid, a paradox if you want. It opens your imagination, and maybe that is its most important aspect.