Fusilier 2e of 3e Divisie Algemeen Depôt der Landmagt No. 33 1835 - 1850

Curator: I'm immediately struck by the utter stillness. It's as if a silent decree has fallen upon this young fusilier. Editor: Indeed. Here we have "Fusilier 2e of 3e Divisie Algemeen Depot der Landmagt No. 33" by Albertus Verhoesen, probably made sometime between 1835 and 1850. It's a watercolor and ink drawing on paper. Part of our collection here at the Rijksmuseum. Curator: He almost looks superimposed on that strange little plinth! Like an action figure awaiting activation. I see a figure stuck between the Romantic sweep of heroism and the cold precision of Neoclassical form. Editor: The figure's static pose reflects the Neoclassical style, definitely. But it also underscores the regimentation and display of military power so important in the wake of the Napoleonic era. This image isn't just about depicting an individual, but documenting the specifics of military dress and rank. The social order reflected in sartorial details, no? Curator: Order, yes, but there's something vulnerable about his posture. Almost tentative, despite the rifle. Those faded colours—they're draining away what little bravado might have been intended. He's just a boy playing soldier. A soldier whose future might include brutal colonial repression, actually...that shifts it again, doesn't it? Editor: Precisely. These depictions circulated widely, helping to solidify both national identity and the sense of imperial authority. What looks delicate now had real force in its day. This wasn't about romanticizing war but standardizing an image. Think of it as an early form of propaganda. Curator: Hmmm. Maybe the stillness comes from knowing his place in that grand, rather joyless, scheme? All this order, you say? He’s just an image, an icon in the machine, caught and held here for eternity. Editor: And in understanding his placement, hopefully, we start to understand the machine itself a little better too. Curator: Well, I see his face, or what there is of it, gazing into something nameless out there, into our own gaze… and now I can’t stop thinking what's the color of nameless and will his name ever really come back to life? Editor: An excellent question with which to end.