Udkast til sarkofag med relief til det Gandilske gravmæle på Assistens kirkegård 1748 - 1823

Curator: At first glance, it feels... muted. Like grief softened by time. Editor: Indeed. What we're viewing is a preparatory drawing by Nicolai Dajon, dating roughly from 1748 to 1823. It's rendered in pen, ink, and wash on paper and proposes a sarcophagus design with a relief for the Gandil family tomb at Assistens Cemetery. It’s currently housed here at the SMK. Curator: Sarcophagi are so charged. It’s a real intersection of personal grief with public ritual. That central panel… it has this restrained theatricality. Is that a mourner placing a wreath? And the seated figure on the right…is he a representation of melancholia perhaps? Editor: Yes, absolutely. Dajon draws heavily on the Neoclassical idiom, which itself borrowed from antiquity's lexicon of symbols to represent complex ideas succinctly. The entire composition hinges on balance and allegory: note the symmetry of the flanking ornaments and the figures’ calculated poses. Even the monochrome palette supports the work's gravitas. Curator: You can definitely see the pull between the drama and decorum—it's all so carefully weighted. Is the relief an idealized scene of mourning or an historical portrayal of the Gandil family’s lives? Editor: A little of both, I think. Dajon sought to universalize grief. But the setting of the neoclassical monument, bathed in the stoic, rational clarity of the Enlightenment, transforms loss into something orderly. Curator: I imagine designing something so permanent must be a burden—capturing the essence of someone's life in stone, distilling everything to a symbol. The wreaths, the classical garb… it all adds up to an almost impossible ideal. It’s a powerful testament to the enduring power of art to mediate our most difficult experiences. Editor: I agree entirely. This understated sketch carries enormous emotional and historical weight. A perfect testament to memory.