the Port of Constantinople 1838

Editor: Here we have John Frederick Lewis's "The Port of Constantinople" from 1838, rendered in graphite, pencil and print. I’m immediately struck by the serene mood and almost dreamlike quality despite the bustling port depicted. How would you interpret this work? Curator: Ah, yes, it whispers, doesn't it? For me, Lewis’s Constantinople is less about geographical accuracy and more about evoking a feeling, a sense of otherness, an Orientalist fantasy that was quite fashionable. See how the buildings seem to melt into one another, almost mirage-like? It's a carefully constructed illusion, far removed from the gritty reality of a working port, I suspect. It's like a stage set, and we're peering into someone else’s reverie. What do you think about the way the artist placed the people in the boat in the lower center? Editor: It's interesting you call it a reverie! The people do give it an intimate, eye-level quality. Curator: Precisely! We’re not soaring above the city like an imperialist surveying his domain. We’re drifting in, sharing a quiet moment with those figures. A very Romantic sensibility. Editor: It makes you feel as though you're there, in the port, doesn't it? I didn't realise there was such thought put behind creating that sort of feeling. I really like that. Curator: Yes, me too! Lewis invites us to dream of faraway lands. The charm lies, perhaps, in the gentle melancholy of his idealized vision. We've touched on both romanticism and orientalism in this work. Thanks!