Mare Riden - Synet No. 2

Curator: Looking at Gerhard Ludvig Lahde's etching from 1797, "Mare Riden - Synet No. 2," part of the collection at the SMK, I'm struck by its powerful social commentary and the fascinating way it blends figuration and allegory. What are your initial thoughts? Editor: Wow, that’s… intense. My first thought is chaotic—like a nightmare scribbled onto paper. So much happening. A sleeping nude, a monkey-devil-thing, rifles making a circle… it feels very loaded. Curator: Precisely. The "mare" is the demonic figure thought to cause nightmares by sitting on people's chests as they sleep, and in this etching, we see it acting out a kind of political allegory. Lahde layers gender, power, and colonial critique within this dreamlike scenario. The rifles circling the scene represent the Danish-Norwegian state. Editor: I can definitely sense a critique. That demonic figure looks like it's mocking vanity, handing the woman a mirror while it carries a weapon of its own. Is this a commentary on power exploiting innocence or naiveté? Curator: Absolutely. The supine female figure represents innocence and vulnerability, but we might also interpret it as the state. And that "monkey-devil," sitting astride her with a feathered crown and mirror, is a clear caricature of ruling elites and perhaps colonial governors. Lahde cleverly uses popular superstitions and traditional nightmares to reflect anxieties surrounding state power, societal corruption, and Denmark's colonial endeavors. Editor: It’s amazing how potent those historical anxieties remain. You know, nightmares never really go away, they just take on new forms. Thinking about that ring of rifles… I feel it also imprisons her, like there is no escaping the inevitable grasp of violence. Curator: It speaks to the broader Romantic movement’s preoccupation with the sublime, evoking awe, terror, and the overwhelming power of forces beyond our control. And situating the etching within this period and these themes, we also reveal anxieties relating to enlightenment, reason, and human autonomy. Editor: And that tension, that push and pull between reason and unreason, seems very alive today. It’s more than just history—it’s like Lahde tapped into something eternally human, or eternally monstrous. It’s unnerving. Curator: It’s definitely an image that sticks with you. The layers of historical context and Lahde’s sharp social criticism continue to resonate, pushing us to examine the narratives we construct around power, identity, and our own culpability.