“You Sniff the Merchandise… Before Buying It,” plate 32 from Types Parisiens 1839

Curator: Honoré Daumier's lithograph, “You Sniff the Merchandise… Before Buying It,” plate 32 from Types Parisiens, made in 1839, captures a seemingly simple transaction. But is it? Editor: Oh, my word, look at those faces! They’re pure comedy, bordering on grotesque. You've got this vendor leaning in, almost pleading with the lady who’s, yes, sniffing a suspicious looking patty. The line work is so animated—it’s like Daumier is poking fun at everyone. Curator: Absolutely. Daumier was a master of social commentary, wasn't he? This work is from a series called “Types Parisiens," where he documented different characters around Paris, capturing the city's social strata and absurdities. Think of him as a 19th-century meme lord making keen observations about consumer culture through the lens of class. Editor: And isn't that what's brilliant here? It's not just about "sniffing the merchandise" but about class anxieties. The vendor's desperate to make a sale, the customer, perhaps, a bourgeois attempting to be shrewd? It raises questions about value, trust, and the performances we enact every day. Curator: Precisely! You see these details. The sausages hanging overhead, casting dark shadows. The abundance of food displayed contrasted by the woman’s apparent hesitations— Daumier highlights the paradox of abundance. He points to anxieties arising with the modernization of markets. There is this tension between tradition and modernity in 19th-century Paris. Editor: Right, the pre-industrial era gave way to mass-production! We might assume this woman comes from wealth, able to discern quality or feign suspicion. Daumier reminds us that even the act of shopping is fraught with societal expectations. This lithograph makes you question the power dynamics embedded within ordinary transactions. Curator: The brilliance of Daumier, in my eyes, lies in how he immortalizes these everyday encounters and encourages you to reconsider how even something as mundane as sniffing your potential food could be loaded with complexities and commentaries on a rapidly changing world. Editor: And me? I’ll never look at a bakery the same way again without pondering all of us sniffing for meaning, or at least a good deal, in the aroma of our consumer choices. It gives "food for thought" a whole new flavor, doesn't it?