Optocht van Ratha Yatra met versierde wagens ter ere van Jagannath in Madurai 1869 - 1870

Editor: So, here we have Samuel Bourne’s gelatin silver print, "Optocht van Ratha Yatra met versierde wagens ter ere van Jagannath in Madurai," taken between 1869 and 1870. The sheer density of people is what hits me first. It feels almost claustrophobic. What details jump out at you? Curator: The compression, the overwhelming feeling—it's a beautiful paradox, isn’t it? A religious celebration captured through a colonial lens. Bourne, trekking across India with his equipment, he must have been astonished. I imagine him, almost drowning in the crowd, and yet compelled to frame and fix this moment in time. Editor: Colonial lens, yes. How does that change how we should view the image, or rather, interpret it? Curator: Ah, that's the heart of it, isn't it? He's not *of* this culture; he’s observing it, framing it for a Western audience. It's exotic, picturesque, and perhaps, slightly...contained. Like pinning a butterfly. Does it diminish the intrinsic beauty of the Ratha Yatra? No. But we must always ask, whose story is being told and *how*? Are we truly seeing or simply gazing? Editor: So, is it possible to separate the photographer's perspective from what he captured? Curator: I believe it's a dance, a negotiation. We acknowledge Bourne’s perspective – his limitations, his biases – while simultaneously trying to glimpse the energy and the devotion of the participants. Can we truly succeed? Perhaps not entirely. But the attempt, the dialogue…that's where the richness lies. What do you feel? Editor: I hadn't thought of it as pinning a butterfly, but that captures the sentiment perfectly! It makes you wonder what parts of the celebration were cropped out. So much to ponder, thanks. Curator: Precisely. It's an invitation to ask more, look closer, and acknowledge the layered histories held within a single frame. Art is never silent.