Metalen Kruis 1830-1831 met blauw-oranje lint by Anonymous

Metalen Kruis 1830-1831 met blauw-oranje lint after 1832

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print, metal, textile, photography

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print

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metal

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textile

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photography

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geometric

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romanticism

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history-painting

Dimensions: length 8.1 cm, diameter 2.9 cm, width 3 cm, length 4.2 cm

Copyright: Rijks Museum: Open Domain

Curator: Let’s turn our attention to this Metalen Kruis, dating from after 1832. It commemorates the 1830-1831 campaign. Look closely—you'll see it’s constructed of metal, with textile components, captured in a photograph. Editor: Immediately, I'm struck by its melancholy air. The aged metal and faded ribbon whisper stories of bravery and perhaps, the unavoidable heartbreak that often follows conflict. Curator: That melancholy resonates deeply, doesn’t it? The cross itself is a bold geometric shape, but the colors are subdued. Note how the 'W' sits proudly at its heart, framed by a wreath and topped by a crown—symbols heavy with meaning and intention. Editor: Absolutely. The 'W', presumably for Willem, anchored within that laurel wreath-- a classical symbol of victory and honor. Yet the blued-grey stripe mixed with orange on the ribbon almost feels like a visual representation of the conflicting emotions war evokes—patriotism mingled with sorrow. Curator: Precisely. That blend embodies the Romantic spirit so prevalent during that era, idealizing the past and exalting emotional experience. What's remarkable, I think, is how such a small object, ostensibly celebrating victory, contains such complexity. It attempts to fix a messy moment in time within these potent symbols. Editor: And failing beautifully, I might add. This image manages to simultaneously glorify and mourn the historical moment it references, its presence extending beyond mere historical artifact. Its message is perpetually ambivalent. It questions us, the viewer. Is it really about glorification, or a solemn act of remembrance? Curator: A compelling observation. That enduring tension between glory and grief really speaks to me now. Thank you. Editor: It speaks through us, doesn’t it? Echoes, forever questioning.

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