Lorenzino de' Medici, 1514-1547, Son of Pierfrancesco II [obverse] c. 1740

Editor: We're looking at a bronze medal, "Lorenzino de' Medici," made around 1740 by Antonio Francesco Selvi. There's this intriguing gravity about it – a weighty seriousness conveyed even in this small scale. I'm struck by how immediate the figure feels. What's your take on this piece? Curator: Immediate is a great word! To me, portrait medals are time capsules. They whisper stories of power, legacy, and the almost desperate desire to be remembered. Selvi wasn’t just making a likeness; he was crafting an idea, solidifying Medici's place in history. Look at the crispness of the profile, the determined set of his jaw! What do you imagine Medici was thinking? Editor: Maybe about maintaining his power? The strong jawline definitely suggests resolve. But it’s also interesting that the medal itself is from a later period, long after Lorenzino's death. What does that signify? Curator: Precisely! It's less about immediate power and more about enduring reputation, decades after his assassination. Perhaps it’s a commentary on the long shadow cast by individuals, even controversial ones. Think of the symbolism, how bronze – itself a durable material – immortalizes him. It's less fleeting than paint. It speaks volumes, doesn't it? Like, how do we choose who we remember, and what aspects of them do we amplify? Editor: Definitely makes you think about who controls the narrative, doesn’t it? Thanks, I’m seeing so much more in it now! Curator: My pleasure. Art's not about passive observation, right? It's a two-way mirror, reflecting both the subject and ourselves. A truly great piece keeps whispering long after you’ve turned away.