Wand met sfinxen 1820

Editor: Here we have Pierre-Nicolas Beauvallet’s ink drawing, "Wall with Sphinxes," created around 1820. It's pretty formal and quite stark; almost severe with all the hard lines and classical elements. What stands out to you in this piece? Curator: Well, it speaks volumes about the era's obsession with order and rationality, wouldn't you agree? Neo-classicism, as an artistic and architectural movement, was itself deeply intertwined with political power. Editor: How so? Curator: Think about it. The sphinxes, the geometric patterns, the architectural framing of death, it all evokes a sense of timeless authority, and the drawing style evokes the science. After periods of intense social upheaval, revolutionary governments tried to draw parallels between themselves and powerful pre-Christian empires, whose social systems depended on inherited status and near constant warfare. What does this piece tell us about how societies deal with grief? What kind of voice do people have in periods like this? How do the aesthetics of power impact the everyday? Editor: That’s a fascinating connection. I was so focused on the aesthetic qualities that I hadn’t considered that this image can communicate about access to power during these tumultuous times. Curator: Precisely! And consider this: who typically commissions such art, and whose stories are deemed worthy of memorialization in such grand style? The piece is a powerful statement, but whose statement is it, and who does it exclude? What is omitted to maintain this vision? Editor: It's unsettling to consider how art can reinforce power structures. I see now there's a lot more to unpack than just columns and sphinxes. Curator: Agreed, we have only touched on the subject. But looking at art through this intersectional lens, questioning whose voices are amplified and whose are silenced, is a crucial step in understanding its complex relationship with society and political reform.