Glenn Curtiss in zijn vliegtuig te Reims Possibly 1909

Editor: This photograph, "Glenn Curtiss in zijn vliegtuig te Reims," possibly from 1909 and attributed to Fr. Rose, really captures a sense of pioneering spirit, doesn't it? It feels both historical and kind of fragile. What stands out to you when you look at it? Curator: That fragility, that's precisely it! The skeletal structure of the biplane against the vast, empty sky...it's like Icarus reimagined with nuts and bolts. But beyond the romanticism, it's about human ingenuity reaching for something just beyond grasp. Imagine the audacity, the sheer thrill, of trusting such a contraption to lift you above the earth! I mean, look at the landscape. Doesn't it make you think about the earth? Editor: Absolutely! I’m also curious about why it feels both so familiar and so distant. Curator: Time does that, doesn't it? We see the mechanics, the reality, but what we're really drawn to is the narrative—the story of daring, of invention, of almost mythical beginnings. This photograph is like holding a whispered legend in your hands. It's funny, you know; for something capturing such a modern marvel at the time, the print itself feels wonderfully archaic. It speaks of progress, captured in an old and slightly melancholic light. Editor: I see what you mean. I hadn't considered that contrast before, how the image itself adds another layer to the story. It gives you much to reflect on! Curator: Exactly! Now, aren’t you itching to build your own flying machine? Just me? Maybe I need another cup of coffee...