Zelfdoding van Lucretia c. 1581 - 1601

Curator: This is "The Suicide of Lucretia", an engraving dating from about 1581 to 1601, by Zacharias Dolendo, here on display at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: It strikes me as theatrical, almost melodramatic. Look at the exaggerated gesture of her arm and the upward gaze, yet it’s all rendered with such precise linework. The tight, controlled space amplifies the drama. Curator: Absolutely. Lucretia's story was potent. The rape by Sextus Tarquinius, son of the Roman king, and her subsequent suicide to preserve her honor, ignited a revolution. The print serves as a moral lesson but also as a condemnation of tyranny. Prints like this circulated widely, shaping public sentiment. Editor: The formal qualities, however, are equally captivating. The artist has this incredible command over line, creating subtle gradations of tone that give form to Lucretia's body. Notice how the composition, confined within that oval, directs the viewer’s eye relentlessly toward her anguished face. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling. Curator: And let’s not forget the broader cultural context. The Mannerist style, with its stylized figures and emotional intensity, resonated with the anxieties of the time. The figure of Lucretia, standing for virtue, was adopted by the aristocracy. Her story served both as a source of female agency and as a warning, all presented within a narrative crafted to justify particular hierarchies and patriarchal assumptions. Editor: But even stripping away those social underpinnings, you are still presented with that moment frozen in time. The texture of her hair, the weight of the sword. It invites deep contemplation about sacrifice. It asks us to ponder the internal battle she would be experiencing just before committing the act. Curator: Indeed, it’s an intersection of history, morality, and artistic skill. Editor: Yes. A deeply unsettling work that makes you examine a pivotal, horrible instant, created by precise detail and powerful presentation.