Beeld van leeuw en man van een afstand, te Babylon, Hillah Possibly 1925

This photograph by A.G.A. van Eelde captures a lion and a man in Babylon, Hillah. The sepia tones feel ancient, like they've soaked up the sun and dust of centuries. I imagine Van Eelde, squinting through the lens, trying to frame this crumbling monument against the vast sky. What was it like, standing there, facing this silent guardian of a forgotten empire? The texture of the earth looks almost like cracked paint, a thick impasto of history itself. The lion sits perched upon the ridge, a single gesture of its head frozen in stone. You can almost feel the heat radiating from the scene, the weight of history pressing down. It reminds me of Cy Twombly's work, in the way it captures the layers of time and myth, the way something monumental can be rendered so fragile and fleeting. Van Eelde isn't just documenting a place, he's capturing a feeling, a sense of awe and melancholy. Artists keep echoing each other through time and across space, don't they?