Landscape with Mercury Holding Argus's Head 1505 - 1570

Curator: Look at the details in this landscape! It's Hieronymus Cock’s "Landscape with Mercury Holding Argus's Head," an etching from sometime between 1505 and 1570, currently residing here at The Met. Editor: It feels so still, yet dramatic. All those fine lines build up a real sense of a vast space, but there is a latent tension in the atmosphere. Almost dreamlike, actually. Curator: That tension probably stems from the myth it depicts. We have Mercury up in the sky after he lulled Argus, the many-eyed giant, to sleep and beheaded him. Editor: The cloud of eyes watches us still. Yes, it's subtle, but that head of Argus, tucked under Mercury’s arm...it speaks volumes about power, deception, and vulnerability. What does it suggest about the role of narrative landscape at that time? Curator: Consider the history: prints like these were very popular, reproducing paintings and disseminating stories. So it's about both access and interpretation. Cock is telling us a story visually that also would have circulated in textual forms. See how the landscape itself seems to watch. Editor: The eyes *are* everywhere. The detailed trees, the rocky outcroppings...even the city in the distance appears to be observing us. Are they symbols for larger ethical considerations regarding sacrifice? What did the proliferation of images *mean* in Early Modern life? Curator: Perhaps! Or they represent our connection to the land. Landscape speaks beyond words. The eye motif acts almost like a precursor to the modern concept of surveillance and the responsibility of looking. I'm drawn back to the visual power within a complex emotional narrative. Editor: Ultimately, this print succeeds by subtly inviting the viewer into this world—into its moral quandaries. Thank you for this fascinating tour. Curator: It was my pleasure. Perhaps it inspires viewers today to reflect on these same enduring themes.