The Apostles Looking at Christ and the Virgin in a Glory of Angels (bottom left plate) 1546

Editor: Here we have a print from 1546 called "The Apostles Looking at Christ and the Virgin in a Glory of Angels," bottom left plate, by Léon Davent. It's an engraving, full of figures looking upwards with such drama. What strikes you most about it? Curator: That collective upward gaze, right? It’s so theatrical, so utterly Mannerist! Think about it: the Renaissance was all about grounded realism, but here, everyone’s craning their necks to glimpse… well, something beyond our world. Are they witnessing a divine revelation or just following someone who spotted a pigeon? Editor: A divine revelation, surely! Although, a pigeon would be funnier. Tell me more about that "theatrical" feel. Curator: Davent doesn't just show us devotion; he stages it. Look at those exaggerated gestures, the way light and shadow play across their robes, it's all designed to sweep *us* up in their fervor. It’s almost as if we're in a play within a play, peeking behind the curtain. And yet, what are we actually seeing? An empty sky! The magic happens in our minds. Editor: So, it's less about showing the event and more about capturing the feeling *around* it? Curator: Precisely! He captures a feeling of collective awe, something both personal and deeply connected. What's so compelling is the gap, the mystery that's evoked – which asks us, are they seeing what we're not? Editor: That makes you wonder about your own faith, I suppose, and what it means to believe in something unseen. Thank you for opening my eyes! Curator: Anytime! That is, after all, the beautiful thing about looking upward; there's infinite room for wondering!