Euterpe 1601 - 1652

Curator: Well, hello there. Looking at this print, it strikes me as so quiet. Editor: It’s a beautiful, somewhat academic study from between 1601 and 1652, believed to be an engraving by an anonymous artist. Here in the Rijksmuseum, it’s called "Euterpe". She was the muse of music in Greek mythology. Curator: You can really see that. The flute held up to her lips seems almost to be vibrating, and the folds of her gown just pooling around her make me think of a still melody. A beautiful arrangement. Is it just me, or does the print lack contrast? Editor: I think that’s a perceptive reading of the work's limitations, and of its historical context. Consider that this piece aligns with Baroque aesthetics and sensibilities. If we view Euterpe as an allegory, her serene focus on musical creation provides an idealized version of feminine intellect in the arts during a time when women were frequently barred from fully accessing or directing it. Her bare feet root her in something more natural. Curator: I didn't quite catch the bare feet detail—a curious contrast against the draped gown and coiffed hair. It grounds the whole, ethereal composition in something undeniably…earthy, wouldn't you say? There are books casually at her feet too, like little stones skipped along the bank. They strike me as beautiful elements. It’s all very…studied. Editor: Right! Books were symbolic keys that unlocked knowledge and potential. Given Euterpe's traditionally constrained social circumstances, it’s provocative to visualize this artistic figure fully embodied as intelligent, literate, and creative all at once. It makes the piece subtly transgressive, though that is something a casual viewer might miss. The male gaze is averted with her downcast eyes as she pursues enlightenment in private. She is both subject and creator here. Curator: A musical, artful arrangement then, isn't it? Like music, a dance on a page…almost eternal. Editor: Yes, an early, subtle, visual reminder that access to knowledge, creativity, and self-expression should really be the right of all. The power in this portrait rests in the idea of infinite access to her creative life and power, quietly enacted.