Shakespere's house before 1864

Curator: I'm really drawn to this print, entitled "Shakespeare's House," attributed to Ernest Edwards. It's a landscape photograph, capturing the essence of the building sometime before 1864. What are your first impressions? Editor: Stark, isn’t it? Almost severe. The light is incredibly flat, casting long shadows—but in a way, it evokes the weight of history. I'm sensing a kind of monumental stillness, despite it being just a simple house. Curator: Yes, I think Edwards intended to give it that feeling of gravitas. He captures every timber and wattle detail with such meticulous clarity. It's not just a building; it’s a vessel carrying centuries of literary significance. I mean, look at that heavy front door. It's a gateway into history. Editor: That doorway really pulls you in. For me, it’s all about that dark rectangle. Symbolically, it's so rich: A place of entrances, but also absences. Every time you look into a dark doorway or cave, there is a pull. Like standing on the bank of a slow-moving river... Curator: That's lovely! A kind of contemplative space that suggests a more imaginative space beyond? Editor: Exactly! It reminds me how architectural spaces shape our memories and become intertwined with stories and experiences. Curator: Photography in that era was as much about documenting as it was about idealizing. Edwards, with this single photographic act, memorializes Shakespeare's home as a sort of cultural shrine, not merely the building. Editor: And the limitations of the medium at the time become strengths, enhancing that slightly melancholic feeling. The print suggests a feeling of reaching back into time through the symbolism of buildings as containers. Curator: It's fascinating how this humble dwelling became so central to our perception of the English language. Editor: Ultimately, I come back to that shadow: a reminder that even the most enduring legacies are interwoven with shadows, absences and mysteries that deepen the story even further.