Spoortunnel in de Weinzettelwand boven de Adlitzgraben 1868 - 1890

Editor: So this stereoscopic card from Oprawil & Co., made sometime between 1868 and 1890, presents a view of the ‘Spoortunnel in de Weinzettelwand boven de Adlitzgraben’—it's quite a mouthful, isn't it? What I find particularly striking is how the monochrome tones render the mountain face almost dreamlike. How do you interpret this work? Curator: Dreamlike is a good word. It's got that hazy, almost watercolour-esque feel despite being a photograph. Perhaps this alludes to the pictorialist style they were experimenting with back then? Look at how they’ve captured the sheer scale of the mountains and that tiny sliver of a tunnel clinging to the rock face; it gives you this simultaneous sense of awe and fragility. Doesn't it almost whisper to you, asking how nature and industrial ambition try to coexist? Editor: I see what you mean, there’s definitely a push and pull there. Is that sense of romanticism typical for landscape photography from this period? Curator: It is, in a way. There was a real fascination with capturing the sublime – that sense of being overwhelmed by nature's grandeur. But it's also tinged with this new, very modern ambition, the drive to conquer these natural barriers. Almost daring Mother Nature herself. Does it read like propaganda of human accomplishment, perhaps? Editor: Now that you point that out, it definitely comes through! This tunnel, almost a scar, symbolizes human ambition but also dependence to nature, and perhaps the romantic ideal to bridge both worlds. Curator: Precisely. The tunnel acts as a metaphor. I think Oprawil & Co. brilliantly encapsulate that pivotal moment in history, framing an industrial pursuit in a very poetic, almost mythical landscape. The way this scene almost begs a comparison. It is no small feat, is it? Editor: Absolutely, I walked in thinking it was "just" a landscape, but I'm now leaving with thoughts of mankind’s reach, our relationship with nature, all within this frame.