Gezicht op Jeruzalem vanaf de Olijfberg c. 1850 - 1865

Curator: Looking at Francis Frith's "View of Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives," circa 1850-1865, currently held in the Rijksmuseum, I'm immediately struck by how small and fragile it seems. It's contained within the pages of what appears to be a personal sketchbook. Editor: There's an intimacy to it, seeing the cityscape rendered in watercolor with this bleed. I'm struck by its slightly melancholic feel. The chosen viewpoint and muted palette evoke a sense of quiet contemplation, maybe even a lament. Curator: Precisely. Frith's presence in the Middle East during that time was tied to larger imperial projects and the Orientalist gaze. His photographs often depicted a romanticized and somewhat colonialist vision of the region. Understanding that is key to interpreting this more informal work. It’s like seeing behind the curtain. The materials – the homemade, aged paper, and the humble watercolour medium - humanizes a complicated legacy. Editor: The sketchbook format, too, changes how we perceive Frith's documentation. Rather than a polished photograph intended for wide consumption, it feels like a personal record, perhaps a moment of private reflection amidst a period of significant social and political upheaval. You can feel his hand in it – not just the hand of the photographer, but of a craftsman. The production involved travel, physical work on-site, choice and deployment of his instruments, his skilled hand on paper... It pushes the discourse beyond the art object into material production. Curator: And even further when you consider who might have accessed that sketchbook then, and how it's accessible to us now. Was this simply a document of colonial exploration or did the embodied artistic choices carry different intent? Frith’s biography tells of an anti-slavery activist as well as photographer and businessman. The complexity within an image like this should provoke meaningful questioning. Editor: Absolutely. It’s a poignant reminder that even within seemingly straightforward depictions, there are layers of socio-political contexts and lived labor that inform the materials. The act of creating this image speaks volumes about nineteenth-century production and access. Curator: I come away with a deeper understanding of the image’s place within a very specific history. Editor: And I appreciate its humble materiality and the hands it took to create it all the more.