Meleager met het hoofd van het everzwijn 1676

Editor: So, this is Richard Collin’s “Meleager with the head of the boar,” from 1676. It’s an engraving, and it feels almost photographic in its detail, despite the obviously mythic subject. There’s something unsettling about how calm and detached Meleager seems, posing next to this… trophy. What strikes you about this work? Curator: Unsettling is a fantastic word for it. The calmness, the classic Baroque drama muted… It's almost like Collin is winking at us. The light and shadow play is there, the muscular ideal... but the real story, the brutal hunt, the familial tragedy of Meleager's story – that’s…almost politely tucked away to the side. It makes you wonder what he's *not* telling us, doesn’t it? He could be more expressive with the medium of line…why isn’t he? Editor: That’s interesting. So, you see this detachment as a deliberate choice, a way of maybe subverting the heroic ideal, rather than just, you know, standard Baroque fare? Curator: Exactly! Consider this; everyone was obsessed with heroes from Antiquity. Collin *knows* we know the story of Meleager’s mother killing him when he gifts her the boar’s head! That he depicts his main subject completely unaffected is a clue. What is *our* role as viewers, looking at this calm tableau of tragedy, if the subject seems nonplussed? Editor: It’s almost like Collin wants *us* to feel the emotional weight that Meleager doesn't seem to be feeling. He’s outsourcing the emotion to the audience. Curator: Precisely! Which, in my book, makes this more than just another academic print. It becomes this sly commentary on how we process and consume narratives of violence and heroism. Think reality television, right? It's there, but where's the feeling? Editor: Huh. I came in thinking this was just another print of some dude with a dead pig, and now I’m questioning the nature of spectacle. That’s art for you, I guess. Curator: Precisely, my friend! Look beneath the boar to feel more!