Militaire weg met brug in Georgië c. 1890 - 1900

Curator: Dimitri Ivanovitch Ermakov’s photograph, "Militaire weg met brug in Georgië," taken around 1890-1900. The Rijksmuseum holds this gelatin-silver print in its collection. What strikes you first about this scene? Editor: It has a harsh, monumental feel, all stone and rushing water. You can almost hear the roar. What story do the materials themselves tell here? Curator: Well, beyond its documentary value as a photographic record, it offers potent symbolism. The road represents progress, connection, perhaps even the intrusion of empire. Bridges, universally, stand for transition. But consider the historical context: late 19th-century Georgia under Russian influence. Editor: That bridge! Its very construction – the visible labour of quarrying, shaping, and placing those stones. Gelatin-silver printing allowed for finer detail and mass production of images like these. How might these readily available images shape the viewers understanding of distant lands and labor? The rough hewn aspect suggests both endurance and vulnerability against that torrent. Curator: Precisely. Bridges collapse. The road, while promising connection, could also be interpreted as a symbol of division or conquest. The visual language reflects cultural anxieties, the meeting of tradition and modernity in a region steeped in ancient symbolism. Note the contrast in light, too – dark imposing mountain and light on the river surface...almost divine in quality Editor: It definitely creates an impression of nature being tamed. A document of infrastructure. It underscores how deeply intertwined technology and territory become in photographs such as this one. How far away, culturally and physically, was the intended audience viewing this image, do you imagine? What meanings were constructed through its display? Curator: Indeed! And perhaps that tension between taming and respecting is part of the photograph’s enduring resonance. I find the landscape and the implied historical narrative compelling. Editor: For me it's the very tangible presence of labor inscribed in those stones, making tangible a much bigger picture.