Piazza S. Marco presa dalla Porta della Carta. Venezia. 1875

Editor: We’re looking at Carlo Naya’s “Piazza S. Marco presa dalla Porta della Carta. Venezia.” from 1875, an albumen print. The scene feels so still, almost frozen in time. The architecture is grand, but the near-empty square makes it feel a little…lonely? What do you see in this photograph? Curator: It’s tempting to see "loneliness," but let’s consider the layers of context. Photography in 1875 was far from instantaneous. Naya's long exposure times likely erased much of the everyday activity. The absence of people inadvertently highlights the stark realities of a city grappling with profound socio-economic changes. What stories do you think the Doge's Palace or the Basilica might whisper about Venice during this period of upheaval and its struggles for autonomy and self-determination? Editor: I hadn't thought about the technology limiting the depiction. So the empty space is maybe less about feeling and more about...showing the structures as survivors of change? How does that connect with activism? Curator: In a way, yes. These buildings, monumental as they are, were witnesses to political machinations and upheavals. As an activist art historian, I see this not merely as a landscape but as a document implicating power, history, and resilience. Naya may not have intentionally made a political statement, but his photograph captured a Venice undergoing significant transformations in its relationship with broader social currents. It silently foregrounds the architecture that witnessed these struggles. Don't you think so? Editor: That’s fascinating. So, it’s about reading between the lines – or, in this case, within the composition? Thanks! I’ll never look at an empty cityscape the same way again. Curator: Exactly. It’s about understanding art as an ongoing conversation. Seeing what the silence can reveal.