Portret van paus Pius VII by Pietro Bonato

1775 - 1827

Portret van paus Pius VII

Listen to curator's interpretation

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Curatorial notes

Curator: Stepping up to this print, we encounter Pietro Bonato’s "Portret van paus Pius VII," a rather austere rendering dating back to the late 18th or early 19th century. Quite the historical figure, wouldn't you say? Editor: Austere, yes, and it feels quite distant. I mean, look at the sharp lines of the engraving! It's precise, cold even. Almost like an architectural rendering of a person rather than a living, breathing being. There's a formality here that’s almost suffocating. Curator: It is interesting you say that. Considering this portrait hails from the Neoclassical era, such emphasis on formal precision is characteristic. Note how Bonato employs clean, unwavering lines and carefully controlled gradations of tone. He really wants you to admire the perfect structure. It's an age of reason approach to portraying faith, isn’t it odd? Editor: Faith packaged as flawless geometry. How delightfully contradictory. I keep circling back to the visual temperature, though. Everything—the rendering of his robes, his rather severe expression, that slightly papery object in his hand—feels designed to maintain a certain level of detachment. Curator: That “papery object” would likely be some manner of decree or document, symbolic of his papal authority. It is also interesting to me how little we see behind Pius VII. You notice the emptiness? Do you see that massive throne dominating space around the human figure? Bonato has used them as tools to emphasize papal authority and status, very similar to a painting by David. Editor: It does strike me as more performance than portraiture. Even in this static medium, I can sense the deliberate construction of an image—power carefully posed for posterity. But I wonder, what does this calculated visual message obscure about the individual himself? The work, despite its precision, almost tells us nothing. Curator: Perhaps that is the point, after all? It’s an engraving; multiples could be made and spread throughout Europe in a manner painting can not. That dissemination reinforces authority to a degree a single artwork can't, despite any obscurities in subject. Well, this has been an… illuminating reflection, even if slightly chilly. Editor: Indeed. I’m still left with a lingering feeling of disconnect, but isn't that precisely what makes analyzing art such a rewarding endeavor?