Drie ruiters in een landschap met versterkte stad 1718 - 1781

Editor: So, here we have "Three Riders in a Landscape with Fortified City" by Christian Rugendas, a print dating from sometime between 1718 and 1781. It’s got a distinctly sepia tone, making me think of old photographs… I’m struck by how poised and self-assured these riders seem against that backdrop. What catches your eye when you look at it? Curator: You know, it makes me think of theatre. It's almost as if the riders are actors posed on a stage, and the fortified city is a backdrop. But what play are they in, eh? What’s fascinating is how Rugendas captured not just a scene, but a feeling – a sense of order, control, even grandeur within a time of potential chaos and conflict. Do you see how their composure is heightened by the detail in their clothing and the horses' posture? Editor: Yes, the horses are so stiffly posed, it’s a little…unnatural? What about the background? The fortified city looks so small compared to them. Curator: Indeed, there is that interesting tension in scale between the riders and the distant city, it’s as if the riders themselves are monumental. It really pulls us into their world and reminds us, that, well, maybe this engraver wasn’t trying to make any kind of realistic rendition. More so to conjure this feeling. What feeling would you say this engraving gives *you*? Editor: It definitely feels staged, almost celebratory despite the fortified city hinting at conflict. Like a propaganda piece, maybe? Curator: Interesting, "propaganda piece"... I wonder. You may well be right! Now you are giving me all sorts of ideas, making me ponder about my own preconceived notions about how art functions in wartime. I appreciate your perspective. Editor: Well, I guess I learned that even an old print can make us rethink modern assumptions. Thanks!