Gezicht op het hoofdgebouw van de Banco de España aan de Calle de Alcalá in Madrid c. 1880 - 1890

Editor: Here we have "Gezicht op het hoofdgebouw van de Banco de España aan de Calle de Alcalá in Madrid," a gelatin silver print by Juan Laurent, made sometime between 1880 and 1890. I'm struck by the contrast between the imposing architectural facade and the almost blurred, indistinct figures populating the space. What do you make of this image? Curator: I see a fascinating intersection of technological advancement and social documentation. This photograph, made with a relatively new process using gelatin silver, presents an opportunity to examine the very means of production: the labor involved in creating the materials, coating the plates, developing the image. We’re not just seeing the bank; we're seeing the results of industrial processes shaping how we perceive reality. Consider the workers who mixed chemicals, polished glass, or even hauled equipment. Editor: So you're saying the subject isn't *just* the building, but the unseen labour that goes into even making the *image* of the building? Curator: Precisely. Furthermore, consider the social context: Why photograph this particular building? What does the Banco de España represent in terms of power, capital, and perhaps, the emerging middle class of Madrid? Photography at this time was also rapidly changing the dynamics of labor. In a way, photography was replacing labor-intensive crafts, simultaneously celebrating progress but making artisanal skill, and craft itself, obsolete. Editor: I never thought about a photograph having a production chain of its own. It’s interesting to consider the economic implications embedded within the image itself. Curator: Indeed. By looking at the materials and the processes involved, we can unpack layers of meaning that go beyond the simple depiction of a cityscape. This photograph serves as a fascinating lens through which to understand 19th-century labor and social structures. It definitely changed my perception about it.