Roeping van Matteüs 1730

Editor: So, here we have "The Calling of St. Matthew," an engraving from 1730 by Bernard Picart, currently at the Rijksmuseum. The figures feel so alive even within the restrictions of the engraving medium; the moment of calling seems both intimate and monumental. What jumps out at you when you look at this work? Curator: Isn't it intriguing? For me, the allure lies in the way Picart captures that pivotal, almost electric moment. Notice how Matthew, head bowed, hand gripping the table—he's caught between two worlds. And that light, almost a divine spotlight, illuminates Christ's gesture. Editor: I hadn't thought of it as a spotlight before, but you're right, it draws you straight to that interaction. The gazes of the surrounding figures – so curious, so intent – it really amplifies the drama, doesn’t it? Curator: Absolutely. And remember this is Baroque; drama is the name of the game. What Picart masterfully does is not just illustrate a biblical scene, but he invites us into it, doesn’t he? To ponder the implications of divine interruption and radical transformation. Look closely - does Matthew look like he believes it himself? Editor: I suppose you could interpret his posture as disbelief; almost reluctance, too. Do you think the artist wanted us to question Matthew's willingness? Curator: Perhaps, or maybe just to emphasize the magnitude of the choice being presented. It’s a testament to the artist's skill that an engraving can spark so much narrative intrigue. After looking at it a bit closer, I see not just a religious scene, but also the dilemma, really, that's familiar to everyone. It speaks to pivotal moments, life-altering decisions. Editor: That's beautifully put. It definitely provides a fresh perspective that transcends the initial impression. Curator: Precisely! Sometimes art sneaks up on you.