Gezicht op Westminster Abbey, Kapel van Henri VII before 1869

Editor: Here we have an albumen print, a photograph titled “View of Westminster Abbey, Henry VII Chapel,” dating from before 1869, by John Harrington. The overwhelming sense of detail is impressive. How would you approach looking at this? Curator: The immediate visual impact lies in its intense verticality. Notice how Harrington orchestrates the lines of the architecture. Each vertical element competes and yet contributes to the tapestry of gothic revival. Semiotically, consider the spires; they suggest aspiration, don't they? But consider the stone's texture, so richly described. How does materiality itself speak? Editor: It does feel like the stone almost has its own presence, like it’s breathing. It makes you want to understand how it was built and where the individual stones came from. Curator: Precisely. Harrington isn't merely documenting; he's interpreting the architect’s design through his arrangement. Observe the light—or rather, the lack of it. The light levels make a stark statement when looking at it formally. How does this absence sculpt form, would you say? Editor: It gives a dramatic weight to the building, and throws a heavy shadow over the walkway to the chapel. I wonder, what did it mean to capture these spaces with the comparatively new technology of photography? Curator: Indeed, the use of this nascent photographic technology grants it unique visual qualities. What do you perceive? Do the choices and technical capacity affect meaning here? Editor: I guess I had not thought that photography’s comparative novelty gave it its own dimension as a technological achievement! Curator: Yes! To appreciate fully a photograph is to be receptive to the means through which we see this gothic construction, layer by layer.