Gezicht op het standbeeld van Willem II in Den Haag 1861 - 1870

Curator: We're looking at an albumen print from somewhere around 1861 to 1870 titled, "Gezicht op het standbeeld van Willem II in Den Haag", currently held at the Rijksmuseum. The artist, sadly, is unknown. Editor: It strikes me as stoic, a study in grey. Everything, even the sky seems filtered through the same solemn lens. The architecture, the statue, the very light... it's all participating in a kind of somber harmony. Curator: The photographic process, the albumen print, certainly contributes to that feeling. There's a formality, almost a rigidity, inherent in the medium itself. It’s not just a snapshot; it’s a deliberate construction, showcasing civic pride and the burgeoning technologies of the time. Think of the effort to haul equipment, prepare the plates, the time exposure took! This wasn’t casual. Editor: Absolutely. And you see that in the framing. The ornate fence feels almost like a gatekeeping device, a separation of the monument from the everyday world. Is it guarding something, or excluding? I'm also curious about the original sculptural materials, how the stone contrasts with the printed photograph. What gets lost in translation? What's emphasized? Curator: The material history fascinates. Someone, probably many someones, quarried that stone, carved those figures, laid those pavers, hammered those railings... each a labour of love, or perhaps just labour, memorialized within this delicate chemical concoction of silver and egg whites. There's an odd dance between the monument’s original physical existence and this new photographic one. Editor: And both become monuments in their own right! It's a fascinating layering of commemoration, a document OF a monument. Seeing all those layers, of making, choosing to make, then imaging making into a photograph, I almost feel as though this stoic vision starts to teeter... Curator: Exactly. The artist’s anonymity also hints at a certain tension. The work becomes about the collective – the city, the nation, the technology – rather than a single artistic ego. Though, I find that liberating in a strange way. As if we are all invited to consider the labor of civic artistry itself. Editor: Which in itself has turned civic artistic work itself. Curator: Indeed. A testament frozen in time and technique. Editor: Which now helps us to rethink how art is materialized.