Penning van Romeins keizer Flavius Claudius Julianus Apostata 1727

Curator: Bernard Picart, in 1727, created this engraving titled "Penning van Romeins keizer Flavius Claudius Julianus Apostata", a work that translates to "Medal of Roman Emperor Flavius Claudius Julian the Apostate". It's held here at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: Right, a double portrait! My first thought, just visually, is the incredible detail given the scale; each laurel leaf has a unique personality. It's quiet but authoritative. What was Picart trying to convey? Curator: Well, consider Julian, the apostate emperor. His attempt to reinstate traditional Roman polytheism after Constantine embraced Christianity puts him in a fascinatingly transgressive position. This engraving isn’t just a portrait; it's a statement about religious and political power, challenging dominant narratives of its time. Editor: I like that interpretation, the subversion bubbling beneath the surface of the neoclassical restraint. But that second portrait—the figure with what looks like a tiny dog at their feet…it reads so differently than Julian’s stoic profile. There's an allegorical element there that's very Baroque. Curator: Absolutely. The piece uses both portraiture and history painting traditions, setting up a dialectic that demands we question Julian's place within a rapidly changing religious and cultural landscape. Think about the power of print, to circulate alternative histories at a moment when imperial iconography was still fiercely controlled. Editor: It makes me wonder about the intended audience and their capacity to decode all of these symbolic cues. Did people get the nuance or just see another emperor portrait? Sometimes history gets lost in the... fanciness. But look, how does Picart do all of this with lines? You can feel the emperor's gaze! Curator: Precisely, it's that intersection of accessible portraiture and sophisticated political commentary that makes Picart's work so compelling. And understanding his world and context—an Enlightenment Europe fascinated and horrified by religious upheaval and shifting imperial power dynamics—allows us to fully engage with the print's potent message. Editor: That makes me see the piece differently... to feel like the small dog might not simply be ornamentation, but may signal the importance of those who don't write history, or can’t make engravings about it. Well, I appreciate how much history can be encoded even within small-format pieces like this one. Curator: Agreed. Julian and Picart together compel us to consider how we grapple with our inherited historical frameworks even today.