The Roman antiquities, t. 3, Plate XXIII. Cutaway view of the previous burial chambers. 

Editor: So, this is Plate XXIII from Giovanni Battista Piranesi’s “The Roman Antiquities,” showing a cutaway view of burial chambers. It’s an etching, so all these fine lines create an intense sense of depth. It feels... weighty. What do you see in this piece that jumps out at you? Curator: Ah, Piranesi. He was a master of illusion and atmosphere. Look at how he combines meticulous architectural detail with a romantic, almost theatrical sensibility. To me, it’s like a stage set for the afterlife. The severe geometry is punctuated by those arches that could be faces, the openings, they suggest a collective dream. Editor: A dream? I was focused on the stone, the solidity... a little morbid maybe? Curator: Maybe... but are those shadows beckoning or foreboding? This piece feels haunted, like a half-remembered Roman myth echoing in our minds. Think of the ambition, even the arrogance, required to map out death so precisely. Editor: It’s like he’s trying to control it somehow. Is that why he focuses on the architecture and almost ignores the people? Curator: Perhaps. Or perhaps those diminutive figures are there to emphasize our insignificance in the face of eternity, no more significant than mice in a gothic cathedral. It’s the ultimate power play, really: imposing order on chaos, light on darkness. Piranesi's making a comment about human life relative to deep time. What do *you* think? Editor: I hadn't thought of it that way before, it feels more like he's capturing a lasting impact by revealing so much depth. Curator: Exactly. A collision of precision and wild imagination! Editor: Definitely changed the way I'm seeing this image, thinking beyond the surface to the depth, not only in the visual, but also in terms of perspective and emotion.