Fotoalbum met 24 cartes-de-visite van Franse personen c. 1860 - 1865

Editor: We’re looking at a photograph of a photo album from around 1860 to 1865. It's attributed to "diverse vervaardigers," which makes me wonder about collaborative artistry in that period. I am initially drawn to the album's hardware - the clasps look weighty and significant. What grabs you when you see this? Curator: It whispers tales of intimacy and curated memory, doesn't it? I can almost smell the aged paper, sense the cool touch of those metal clasps under my fingertips. To me, this album represents far more than just a repository for photographs; it’s a carefully constructed reliquary of identity. Editor: Reliquary…that's interesting. In what sense? Curator: Consider the context. The "cartes-de-visite," the photographs held within, became wildly popular during that era, essentially the Instagram of their time, little snapshots used for social networking. People meticulously collected and displayed them in albums like this – crafting their social persona. It makes me think of Proust’s madeleine. Editor: You mean how it unlocked a flood of memories? Curator: Exactly! These albums became personal time capsules. Can you imagine carefully choosing which faces to display, agonizing over their placement, the stories each arrangement tells? These weren't casual snapshots, these were crafted narratives, weren't they? And someone, perhaps a matriarch, held the power to create it. Editor: So, the album isn't just about the photos but about curating a sense of self. Fascinating. Curator: It truly is. Each small choice echoing through time. Makes you think about how we carefully craft our online profiles today, doesn’t it? Editor: It really does. The act of selection hasn't changed that much. Curator: Nope, and our digital selves are, after all, just another kind of "carte-de-visite".