Overlijden van Berthold Haller, hersteller van de kerk te Bern 1725

Editor: We're looking at a metal sculpture, a 1725 piece by Jean Dassier entitled, "Overlijden van Berthold Haller, hersteller van de kerk te Bern" or, in English, "The Death of Berthold Haller, Restorer of the Church in Bern." It's striking how official and commemorative it feels, like a historical marker rendered in miniature. What’s your take on its significance? Curator: It is indeed a powerful historical document, made potent by its very medium. These medals, produced serially, functioned as portable history lessons. Dassier, and his contemporaries, skillfully navigated the political landscape by immortalizing key figures of religious and civic life, playing a significant role in shaping public memory and, arguably, influencing contemporary opinion through selective narratives. Consider what isn’t shown, too. Editor: Selective narratives, you say? Could you elaborate on what narratives are presented, or perhaps obscured, in this depiction of Berthold Haller? Curator: This medal frames Haller primarily as a figure crucial to the Reformation in Bern. "Profligato papismo," the inscription tells us he banished Papism. It champions a particular Protestant narrative. Dassier was very skilled at crafting powerful statements. Consider that the piece dates from well after Haller's death in 1536 – what purpose might such a commemoration serve nearly two centuries later? Editor: So, this wasn’t necessarily just a tribute, but perhaps a statement relevant to the 18th century? Was the memory of the Reformation still a political tool then? Curator: Precisely! It reminds the viewer of Bern’s Protestant identity, likely as a reinforcement of then-current political and religious positions. Commemorative art isn't neutral. Who is being honoured, and *when* the honour is being made, often speaks volumes about the political present. Editor: I never thought about commemorative art that way. This makes me wonder about other pieces. Curator: Exactly! Context is everything, and the act of remembering is, itself, an act of power.