Handvat van zwarte kunststof met geribbeld oppervlak en afgesneden stekels, voor een paraplu of parasol c. 1910 - 1920

Editor: This photograph captures a black, ribbed, plastic handle from an umbrella or parasol. It dates from sometime between 1910 and 1920 and is currently held at the Rijksmuseum. I find its stark simplicity and the focus on texture rather striking. What do you see in this piece, that maybe I am missing? Curator: Oh, but you’re already onto its subtle genius! For me, it’s about the quiet poetry of everyday objects. We often overlook the artistry in the mundane, like this humble umbrella handle. Editor: The texture does seem very intentional, doesn’t it? Curator: Absolutely. Imagine the hand that held this—rainy streets, romantic rendezvous perhaps, or a shield against the harsh sun? It evokes a lost era, doesn’t it? Photography elevates its ordinariness, prompting us to think about design in every facet of our lives, how even necessary functional objects can carry beauty and artistry. It feels strangely comforting and slightly melancholic to ponder on. It almost looks as though each notch and ridged section acts like memory fragments. Editor: A sort of time capsule you can grasp? I can see what you mean. I initially only considered its texture in terms of grip, but now I can’t help but imagine the stories it holds from being used. Curator: Exactly! It makes you wonder about all those unnoticed interactions we have with simple items that will exist for a very long time. It also subtly questions photography’s role. Is it the artist or the subject who’s truly captivating us? Food for thought! Editor: I never thought I'd be waxing philosophical about a photograph of an umbrella handle! Thanks for the new perspective. Curator: My pleasure! Sometimes the most profound insights hide in the most unassuming places. Keep seeking them out.