Gezicht op de ingang van de Katoenmarkt en een gezicht op de westelijke muur en het klooster, op de Tempelberg in Jeruzalem before 1865

Editor: So, here we have two photographic albumen prints titled "Gezicht op de ingang van de Katoenmarkt en een gezicht op de westelijke muur en het klooster, op de Tempelberg in Jeruzalem," dating back to before 1865, by James McDonald. They're sepia-toned and incredibly detailed. The light and shadow play across the stone architecture almost make them feel like etchings. What catches your eye most about these images? Curator: You know, what gets me right in the solar plexus is the utter *stillness*. Look at that lone figure in the top print. Makes you wonder about time, doesn't it? Before roaring trains and chattering phones. This feels like a pause, a caught breath in the history of Jerusalem, framed by that Cotton Market entrance. The Temple Mount has been a contested holy space for so long, and McDonald's image seems to distill centuries into this quiet moment. Do you pick up on that feeling of profound history, or am I just waxing lyrical this morning? Editor: I get it. The lack of people does make it feel frozen, timeless almost. What about the lower image with the wider cityscape? Does that stillness translate? Curator: It's different, isn't it? The wider cityscape lets in a bit of… breath, I suppose. You’ve got the minaret, the Dome of the Rock hinting in the distance, the architecture seems more interwoven with the living city. It is like these architectural structures persist as witness to an enduring legacy! That lower photograph shows this sacred space as continuously active in the everday activities. Tell me, which one would you hang in your bedroom and why? Editor: The top one, definitely. That single figure, the stoic stone – it feels almost meditative. Curator: See? It grabs you by the soul. James McDonald certainly captured something special. I have found these structures speaking a forgotten tongue. Editor: Definitely given me a new perspective on landscape photography. Curator: And for me, a fresh reminder of the power of stillness. A photograph really can stop time.