Ruiterstandbeeld van Nicolaas I van Rusland in Sint-Petersburg c. 1860 - 1880

Editor: Here we have a gelatin silver print from sometime between 1860 and 1880 by Alfred Lorens depicting the equestrian statue of Nicholas I in Saint Petersburg. The almost monochromatic sepia tones evoke a wistful nostalgia, don’t you think? What stories do you imagine reside within this photograph? Curator: Stories aplenty! It feels like stumbling upon a cherished postcard from a bygone era, doesn’t it? I love the somewhat dreamlike quality of these early photographs; they capture not just the subject, but also the very essence of time itself, or how it’s perceived. It whispers tales of ambition, empire, and the enduring allure of power. Does it prompt thoughts of classical heroism in you? Editor: It definitely makes me think about power and control but the angle of the image almost minimizes it. It seems as though Lorens chose an ordinary street view rather than an overtly heroic pose. I suppose neoclassical art usually implies messages of valor? Curator: Precisely! The subject exudes neoclassical elements, especially when reflecting upon the grandiosity and authority so powerfully visualized, yet through photography. It brings me back to art history classes... I mean, who knew gelatine could encapsulate such potent imperial vibes? But yes, in this particular artwork the almost candid shot and the softened sepia tints create a nostalgic tableau. There’s a touch of tenderness that perhaps counters the pure propaganda narrative, a hint of human observation over sheer idolatry, if you will. What does that evoke for you? Editor: I like what you’re saying, seeing the humanity peeking through, even in an image of power. I was caught up on just the facts, thanks! Curator: It's precisely that tension, the dance between the grandiose and the personal, that makes art so endlessly captivating. A true learning experience!