San Marcoplein met de Torre dell'Orologio te Venetië 1860 - 1870

Editor: This is an albumen print by Paolo Salviati, circa 1860 to 1870, depicting the San Marcoplein with the Torre dell'Orologio in Venice. There's something hauntingly beautiful about this empty cityscape; it's grand, but also feels frozen in time. What strikes you most about this photograph? Curator: You know, that sense of frozen time really resonates. It's Venice, but almost a ghost Venice, isn't it? For me, it's the light – or rather, the way Salviati has captured the absence of vibrant colour. Venice, in our minds, is a riot of hues, shimmering water... and this photograph deliberately withholds all of that. He coaxes something quiet from it all. Do you think he was making a deliberate comment on Venice’s decline, perhaps? Editor: That's interesting...I hadn't considered the *lack* of colour as a commentary. Maybe I was so focused on the composition—the way the buildings loom, and how the perspective almost swallows the viewer—that the social or political elements didn't register. Curator: Exactly. It invites introspection, this image, a kind of nostalgic echo. The starkness also enhances the architectural details – the ornate facades of the buildings practically leap out! One can almost hear the faint whisper of lapping water and distant bells despite the photographic silence. I love imagining the *before* and *after* of this captured moment – who might have walked across that empty square. What stories have these stones absorbed, do you wonder? Editor: I do. Thinking about Venice as a city of stories—and Salviati capturing a silent, potent moment of its history—that adds so much depth. It makes the image more compelling now that I see this city brought to life through light and architecture. Curator: Absolutely. It makes one think that stillness doesn’t necessarily equate to silence; rather, a charged suspension before the inevitable rush of time resumes. Editor: This has truly changed how I viewed it. Thanks for sharing your vision!