Achilles en de dochters van Lycomedus 1679

Editor: So, here we have Franz Ertinger's 1679 engraving, "Achilles and the Daughters of Lycomedes," housed at the Rijksmuseum. The composition is so dynamic, filled with swirling fabric and dramatic reactions! It definitely has the feel of a theatrical stage. How do you even begin to unpack a piece with this much going on? Curator: Ah, yes, it's like a party thrown by history itself, isn’t it? To me, it’s the moment of revelation—the theatrical "Aha!" where Odysseus reveals Achilles, hidden among the daughters of King Lycomedes, by offering trinkets and, crucially, weapons. Achilles, naturally, goes for the sword. Imagine the whispers, the stifled gasps! Editor: The sword, of course! It seems so obvious now. So it's not *just* a group of women reacting, but a key moment of unveiling. It makes the drama even more specific, a lot more compelling. It's interesting that it's rendered in this Baroque, almost stagey way. Curator: It’s delicious, isn’t it? The Baroque loved these grand reveals, the sudden shifts in perception. The figures, their reactions, it's all so…extra. You almost expect them to break into song. And consider, engravings were the newspapers of their day – how do you make a relatively humble engraving sing? You fill it with drama. But look closer; is Achilles reluctant? He almost seems startled, torn between worlds. Or perhaps that’s me projecting? Editor: Torn maybe? It's like he's both caught and liberated at the same time! So interesting! It definitely gave me a lot to think about. Curator: For me, this work underscores how narratives shape identity. That sword isn't just metal; it’s destiny, and he grabs it knowing – or not – what is waiting. It gets me thinking about choices we make. It is powerful stuff, even centuries later.