Portret van Johann August Unzer 1764

Editor: So, this is Christian Fritzsch's "Portret van Johann August Unzer" from 1764, housed here at the Rijksmuseum. It’s a strikingly detailed engraving. There’s an intimacy to it, a sense of quiet study perhaps? What initially captures your attention when you look at this piece? Curator: Intimacy, yes, that's beautifully put. For me, it's the way Fritzsch captures Unzer’s intellect, that slight furrow in his brow, as if he's perpetually engaged in thought. See how the light pencil work throws relief and shade on his features! There’s also a theatricality to the setting – almost like a stage, don't you think? With the ornate frame, heavy drape and stacked books that almost feel like a backdrop for Unzer. Does that reading change the 'intimacy' of your initial interpretation? Editor: It does! The staging makes him seem more like a figure to be admired. So the drama enhances his persona... were these printed portraits commonly made of intellectuals and notable figures during the 18th century? Curator: Precisely! Portraiture was incredibly important; and widely distributed engravings like these democratized the distribution of one's likeness to some degree. Fritzsch is, in essence, creating an ‘image’ of a man known for his mind. It’s almost like an early form of branding. Think about it— what does the setting tell us? Editor: The books, of course, his clothing, that he's wealthy. It suggests a man of considerable learning and status. It’s clever how all those elements subtly reinforce his character. Curator: Exactly. And the tools on the desk? The papers? There is almost too much. What happens when we add artifice to a genuine attempt at a portrait. And maybe more broadly, to life itself? Editor: Wow, I didn’t think of that. Seeing it all laid out this way, I now feel a sense of calculated intent in the portrait beyond just capturing a likeness. Thank you! Curator: It’s a constant push and pull isn't it? Isn't it just lovely when that all begins to take shape in our perception.