Laatste Avondmaal 1607

Curator: Here we have Sisto Badalocchio's "Last Supper" from 1607, rendered as a rather compelling etching. What leaps out at you? Editor: The sheer...industry of it! Look at the density of those etched lines. It feels like a carpenter labored over this, building up form with meticulous crosshatching, rather than some divine spark striking the copper plate. Curator: I feel it! There's something profoundly human, almost domestic, in its execution. Instead of airy grace, we get the weight of material, the palpable reality of the table, the bodies…even divinity feels a bit...grounded. Editor: Grounded by labor, certainly. Badalocchio wasn't just conjuring a sacred scene; he was manipulating a very physical medium. Consider the mordant, the acid used to bite into the plate - a corrosive force shaping spirituality. It begs the question, what was his workshop like? I imagine a real hub of craft. Curator: Indeed. The mannerist style lends itself to these interwoven perspectives. Look at how our gaze travels! It's this strange ballet of lines, directing our eyes. What I appreciate is the nervous energy imbued, like the tension just before a storm. Editor: Absolutely. But even this 'nervous energy' isn't free-floating inspiration. It comes from a mastery of the etching process, controlling the depth and direction of each line to convey emotional depth and highlight social dynamics within the narrative. You feel the material struggling with the spiritual. Curator: Perhaps. Though, there’s also something beautifully melancholic here. A sense of impending... absence. As if Badalocchio anticipated the aftershock and knew what would soon descend. Editor: That reading humanizes the etching beautifully. I get almost a raw material that the collective unconscious sculpts the feeling around as you said – like an emotional imprint left in the metal during production, resonating to this day. Curator: It has the feel of bearing witness, right? Editor: Precisely. It’s a potent mix – materials shaped, emotions felt, and an immortal dinner made immortal, once more.