Interieur van vermoedelijk een kerk in Napels c. 1860 - 1880

Editor: This is "Interior of probably a church in Naples," a gelatin silver print from sometime between 1860 and 1880, by Giorgio Sommer. It has such a hushed and reverent feeling to it, doesn't it? With those beautiful arches. What do you see when you look at this, especially knowing it was created relatively early in photography's history? Curator: You're right, there's a palpable stillness, a kind of hushed expectancy. I find myself wondering what it was like to set up such a shot back then. Imagine hauling all that equipment into a space like this! The light must have been a real challenge. It’s tempting to see this as a straightforward, realist capture of space. But I think Sommer is also playing with theatricality, almost staging the scene for us. What do you make of the lack of people? Does it amplify that hushed feeling? Editor: It really does, it's like we've stumbled in at a very private moment. It almost feels forbidden to be there. I’m also curious about how it was used, this doesn't look like an artistic statement in itself. Was this an early form of documentation perhaps, or for something else entirely? Curator: Exactly! These photographs were often sold as souvenirs to tourists. Imagine taking this stereoscopic image home to show everyone. These were virtual reality postcards! Did this new perspective change how you feel about the art? Editor: It does, now the reverence that I first perceived now has this very playful and democratic intention, even. Like bringing the inaccessible into easy reach. I hadn’t quite thought about that when looking at photography from this perspective. Thank you for opening my eyes! Curator: My pleasure. It’s always fascinating to consider how historical context shapes our contemporary viewing. Seeing isn't passive but requires some mental exercise. Isn't that the fun of art?