Borreman. Léontine, Eugénie. 23 ans, née à Paris le 25/12/70. Papetière. Anarchiste. 13/3/94. 1894

Editor: Here we have a gelatin-silver print from 1894, attributed to Alphonse Bertillon. It’s titled “Borreman. Léontine, Eugénie. 23 ans, née à Paris le 25/12/70. Papetière. Anarchiste. 13/3/94.” Quite a title, really, with all those details! The subject stares straight at us, almost confronting us. There's a sternness in her expression that's rather compelling. What do you make of it? Curator: What I see here isn't just a portrait, but a document—almost like a leaf torn from the annals of societal unease. Bertillon was famous for his mugshots, so what does it mean to aestheticize the very process of labeling someone a criminal, a deviant? And what can you, the 21st century student, see here, filtered through the mist of passing time? Editor: It’s… unsettling. Knowing she was labeled an anarchist. It feels like more than just identification, like a judgement. Curator: Exactly! Now, look at her eyes, so intent, holding her own—even with her identification and suspected transgression marked on her. Imagine her hopes, the fires of her rebellious heart beating, as they likely thought ineffectually, just beneath her skin in that stark moment in history. Can we truly define someone with one label and a quick capture, devoid of the stories etched into their souls? Is she truly transparent now, or just opaque as ever? Editor: It makes you think about how quickly we judge people even today. This photo is… evidence, I suppose, not just of a person but also of a system, of societal fear and the need to categorize and control. Curator: And perhaps, it's a warning, lest we fall too easily into simplifying, containing, and losing the complexity, the exquisite mess of our fellow human souls in a gelatin silver prison. A lesson I carry in my own work. Editor: I’ll definitely look at these kinds of portraits differently now!