De vlucht naar Egypte 18th century

Editor: Here we have "The Flight into Egypt," an 18th-century print by Giovanni Volpato, currently housed in the Rijksmuseum. It's a delicate scene, quite ornate with all its baroque styling, but there's a strange sense of unease that it gives me, with the precariousness of the situation facing this small family unit amidst such chaos. What do you see in this piece? Curator: Unease...yes, I felt something akin to that on my first viewing. Think about what ‘flight’ means—uprooting. This baroque piece uses lush colours, doesn’t it? Look at the ornate frame of flora, so at odds with the stark reality of exile. And have you noticed the detail? The city they are headed to. It looks just like ancient Rome! I think it captures how the familiar comforts are both beautiful and yet can often be trapping as they head toward an unknown safety in the face of their old home persecuting them. What an engraving. How does that read to you? Editor: That's fascinating. I hadn’t thought of the city as potentially representative of Rome; a little odd considering the subjects' circumstances. Are you suggesting Volpato subtly comments on the sometimes stifling nature of established power structures even while rendering it beautiful? It does feel… almost deceptive. Curator: Deceptive. That's it. The deceptive veneer of established society against personal stories is something you notice across time. Art gives us language. What's even more fascinating, can you imagine that those colors that give so much to this feeling have been added later to the bare print?! How ephemeral, a second hand interpretation to a scene! I imagine each added choice is someone having to put their own spin on it, in the now. Isn’t that curious? Editor: That is wild. It truly does make it a dialogue through time. Curator: Yes, it does. And each viewer participates in that same dialogue!