Mer-de-Glace nabij Chapeau c. 1860 - 1880

Curator: Let's delve into this stereoscopic image by Ernest Eléonor Pierre Lamy, titled "Mer-de-Glace near Chapeau," created sometime between 1860 and 1880. Editor: Bracing! The sheer scale of the glacier looming above, the precarious scree slopes, it’s a sublime vista of the Romantic era, really highlighting nature's grandeur. Curator: The rise of mountain tourism played a significant role here. In the mid-19th century, viewing locations, like Chapeau, became quite popular, along with alpine imagery distributed on a mass scale. Editor: The very form of this stereoscopic image also creates an effect; we aren’t just seeing a glacier, but experiencing it, practically on location. The repeating figures— are those guides perhaps?— enhance the impression of entering another realm. I notice they are small, and seem vulnerable... the old symbols of man confronted by the monumental forces of nature. Curator: Exactly! The market for these images allowed many photographers such as Lamy, whose name features prominently here, to thrive. These works were a vehicle for spreading idealized and dramatic views. The stereoscopic format played perfectly into Victorian society's appetite for both scientific accuracy and visual escapism. Editor: This aesthetic and its icons are a mirror. It allowed, and still allows us to come face-to-face with ideas about danger and the small place man has among it all. Even today we hold onto our collective symbol vocabulary about sublime landscapes: nature can be simultaneously feared, admired, and enjoyed. This particular place has deep, embedded associations. Curator: Indeed. It is easy to romanticize our viewing. Looking at this now, however, with the knowledge of glacial melt, the photograph, meant to capture something immense and eternal, takes on a somewhat melancholy meaning. Editor: I find that even this visual memento, by capturing that frozen world and what it means in the flow of human culture, grants this artwork another life still.