Portret van Alphons Diepenbrock, Willem Kloos en Hein Boeken 1885 - 1890

Editor: So, here we have Joseph Jessurun de Mesquita's gelatin-silver print, "Portret van Alphons Diepenbrock, Willem Kloos en Hein Boeken," likely created sometime between 1885 and 1890. It's a group portrait, and the muted tones give it a strangely melancholic feel, wouldn’t you say? What catches your eye most in this piece? Curator: Melancholic is a lovely word for it, yes. For me, it's the tension between the formality of the portrait – the three gentlemen posed so deliberately – and the raw vulnerability seeping through. Look at their hands, their expressions, a certain guardedness. There’s this beautiful contradiction – what do you make of that? It is so evocative, the staging and presentation – are they presenting a facade? Or sharing intimacies only suggested by a stolen glimpse? Editor: That's a fantastic point! I was focused on the sort of stillness, but the hands… there’s unease there. The man on the right seems to almost be shrinking away, looking down at his hands with no eye contact. Curator: Exactly! It’s like a whispered secret shared amongst them. It makes me think, what conversations led to this photograph? Did they feel at ease? Photography at that time wasn't the casual snapshot we know now; it was a calculated act, often reserved for special occasions, or like painting, the portraits of significant figures. These were not necessarily significant *yet*. It makes one ponder the artist’s view. Is it intimacy? Observation? Editor: That makes me appreciate it so much more. Seeing the image not just as a record but as a moment carefully constructed…or perhaps deconstructed! I hadn't really considered the weight each gesture would carry in such a context. Curator: Right? Art offers little secrets all the time and sometimes it’s fun to tease them out! Maybe what resonates for me here is how the piece captures a kind of becoming, doesn't it?