Doorsnede van slib uit een steengroeve bij Saint-Acheul before 1878

Editor: Here we have Eugène Desplanques's "Doorsnede van slib uit een steengroeve bij Saint-Acheul," a photographic print created before 1878. It depicts a layered cut of earth, a cross-section of soil. It's…well, it's geological. Kind of academic looking, almost scientific. What do you make of it? Curator: It's fascinating how photography was being employed as a tool for scientific documentation, isn’t it? But let’s dig a bit deeper, no pun intended. Consider Saint-Acheul. This region of France is archaeologically significant. Do you know why? Editor: I don't, actually. Curator: It is a key site in understanding early human history. The "Acheulean" is actually a term referring to a specific Paleolithic tool-making industry! This image, in a way, isn't just dirt; it’s a record, a document attempting to grapple with the immense scope of time and human origins. Photography, even then, participated in defining narratives about what it means to be human. Editor: So, this isn't just a record of a place, but it connects to big ideas about archaeology and the development of technology! How does that impact its meaning today, knowing the layers contain that kind of story? Curator: It prompts us to consider the biases inherent in any seemingly objective record. Who gets to define "human," and whose stories are prioritized in these narratives about progress and civilization? It demands a critical engagement with the history of science and its relationship to power. What layers remain unseen or unheard, quite literally perhaps? Editor: It reframes how I view this work. Initially, I saw just dirt; now, I recognize its ties to anthropology, history, and, also to political themes inherent in our interpretations of both science and the past. Curator: Exactly. And that's how we transform seemingly straightforward images into powerful dialogues.