Bookbinding of repeat foliate pattern 1556 - 1618

Editor: So here we have this exquisite "Bookbinding of repeat foliate pattern" from the late 16th or early 17th century. It’s currently housed at The Met and the book itself is textile-covered, which feels so unexpected! I'm struck by how intimate it feels, like a treasured secret. What do you see when you look at this piece? Curator: Oh, I'm so glad you used the word "intimate," because it sparks that feeling in me, too. I mean, imagine holding a book, not just as a vessel for knowledge, but as an object of tactile beauty, a gentle, quiet assertion of luxury. For me, its modest size emphasizes that it wasn’t intended to be ostentatious; it was made for private contemplation. Are you picking up any potential symbolism in that foliate design, those little leaves reaching up? Editor: Now that you mention it, those upward-reaching leaves, maybe it's about growth, knowledge reaching for the light? Curator: Precisely! And I see those muted greens and browns – wouldn't you agree they ground the piece, evoking nature, resilience? Remember that textiles in this era spoke of status but also artistry – women would spend countless hours on projects like this. There’s something almost sacred about the slow work, don’t you think? What about the structure of this one strikes you? Editor: Well, it's a bit wonky and handmade, right? Like it wasn't mass produced or perfect but still charming. Curator: Exactly! The imperfection *is* the charm, revealing the hand of the maker. It whispers of personal devotion. I find that beautiful. It goes to show that objects aren't perfect when pristine and manufactured, they gain character as they gain 'lived' experience. Editor: That's a beautiful thought; I'll definitely keep that in mind when examining works from this period! Curator: I think it really speaks to this whole project of reevaluating, doesn't it? What a rich encounter, reminding us to touch history, imaginatively speaking!