Para (ou Parra). Henri. 38 ans, né le 16/5/56 à Paris Ve. Camelot. Anarchiste. 4/9/94. 1894

Curator: Up next, we have an arresting albumen print entitled, "Para (ou Parra). Henri. 38 ans, né le 16/5/56 à Paris Ve. Camelot. Anarchiste. 4/9/94," attributed to Alphonse Bertillon and taken in 1894. It’s currently part of the collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Editor: Woah. It looks like a Victorian-era wanted poster, but art-ified? I get a real sense of… Melancholy hanging around this fella. Something about the slumped shoulders. Curator: Indeed. The piece is not just a portrait, but a form of visual taxonomy developed by Bertillon, the father of modern criminal identification. We can read the meticulous inscription and annotation as integral components. Editor: So the "art" part isn’t just accidental, or because everything old becomes retro-cool; Bertillon had an agenda. He's making claims about seeing, knowing. The cold precision of the record is striking. Look how matter-of-fact it feels. I find it deeply human somehow... almost comical, yet very sad. Curator: I concur. The albumen print medium gives a warmth, despite the clinical intent, offering layers of analysis—the objective vs. subjective experience, the power of photography. The frontal pose emphasizes a certain transparency but belies the true interior of the man. Editor: It also reminds me, a little too keenly, how little things have changed. Datafication continues at an alarming pace. The tools have evolved but the desire to sort and file people…it seems timeless, somehow? And here we are, staring. I almost feel guilty. Curator: Perhaps that tension is the power of the image— the uneasy space between record, art, and moral contemplation. Editor: You're right, its effect lingers. And you almost miss the soft corduroy jacket and the stylish stache; almost… Curator: Precisely. It’s those small, humane details, fighting through the archival intention, that give the work its persistent and multi-layered meaning.