Lodewijk XI in de Bastille 1831 - 1889

Curator: Looking at this, I see almost a haunting echo in lines. Editor: Indeed. The engraving we are looking at, created by Johannes de Mare between 1831 and 1889, depicts 'Lodewijk XI in de Bastille'. Curator: It feels like an introspective study of power, the isolation that comes with it, rendered through delicate, precise engraving work. Did medieval engravings typically delve into such psychological portrayals? Editor: Not always explicitly, but the symbols and allegories were deeply ingrained. The Bastille, though later famous as a prison, here serves as a stage for Louis XI’s internal confinement. He's physically present, yet removed. The faces in the background seem to observe but not interact. Curator: Almost spectral figures! And that piece of cloth being held up—is it a treaty? A surrender? My first impression was simply sadness. The king looks lost, even defeated. Editor: The cloth is less specific and more symbolic, representing perhaps negotiation, a plea, or even judgment. Remember, historically, cloth was used in countless symbolic ways - think banners, shrouds, veils. Its ambiguity here intensifies the emotional weight of the scene. The others appear to be watching, conspiring, and assessing, shrouded in the half-light as if from another world. Curator: The etching feels very deliberate—even theatrical. This really breathes emotion from the heart of a historical drama! Editor: And notice how De Mare plays with light and shadow—that strong contrast emphasizes the psychological drama. The man's posture speaks of burden, of decisions made, and their consequences unfolding. Curator: To bring history into such immediate emotional experience really transcends just a "historical" piece—making something timeless! Editor: Exactly! And that’s the genius—tapping into the cultural memory, the ingrained symbolic understanding, and connecting it to universal emotions. "Lodewijk XI in de Bastille" ceases to be a historical record; it becomes a mirror reflecting our own humanity, or inhumanity. Curator: Right! And that still resonates, those burdens we carry—I felt them instantly. That's the power of art that genuinely connects.