Mensen bekijken vanaf de kade de hoge waterstand van de Seine in Parijs 1910 - 1911

Editor: This gelatin silver print, "Mensen bekijken vanaf de kade de hoge waterstand van de Seine in Parijs" by G. Dangereux, seems to capture a moment frozen in time, sometime between 1910 and 1911. It feels so still and muted, but the rising water also communicates something dramatic and concerning. What's your read of this piece? Curator: Ah, yes. The Seine overflowing its banks is a recurring theme in Parisian history, isn't it? But there’s a poignant tension in Dangereux's photograph. It's not just a document of a flood. Look at the composition - the stark trees, almost like skeletal fingers, against the flooded landscape, the curious onlookers bundled up along the embankment. I wonder what was going through their minds? Were they alarmed? Mesmerized? Perhaps even, dared I suggest, experiencing a kind of aesthetic thrill at seeing the familiar cityscape so dramatically transformed. The city rendered watery, a landscape of reflections… Have you ever felt a sense of awe mixed with unease? Editor: That's beautifully put! I hadn't considered the emotional complexity of the scene for the viewers, I was focused only on how muted it seemed. Are you saying that what may feel muted or bland at first might have been exciting for them? Curator: Precisely! And the act of *witnessing* this moment becomes important too. This is Dangereux offering *us* that same chance to watch and consider, decades later, aren't they? Does this feeling permeate for you as well? I wonder… Editor: Yes, definitely! I hadn’t fully considered the multiple layers of viewership – those on the bank, the photographer, and us now. That really adds a new dimension for me, thank you. Curator: And that, my dear, is the joy of art, isn't it? Always revealing more, like the water it captured!