Gargantua ontmoet een kluizenaar 1716 - 1761

Curator: Pieter Tanjé created this engraving sometime between 1716 and 1761, here at the Rijksmuseum. It's titled, "Gargantua meets a hermit." Editor: It’s striking, in a way that feels a little… awkward? The landscape seems to struggle to contain both the hermit's wild natural world and the sharp lines of the ship on the water. Almost like two stories clashing. Curator: Exactly. It is Baroque, of course, so we see these kinds of dramatic clashes frequently, often intending to signal a profound shift in narrative or ideology. Think of the Baroque as visual theater; always pushing the boundaries to incite passion. Editor: It’s definitely working, if passion equals unease! The hermit, with his gestures and staff, versus that rather…clean looking group of figures feels staged. Though it must have taken a long time to do. Is this just lines scratched into metal? That's wild. Curator: It's all about the process, yes. But the magic of engraving is that it could then be reproduced and widely disseminated. The themes were quite fashionable then—narrative and genre-painting—which boosted the piece's popularity during this period. It played to a particular educated sensibility. Editor: So, the hermit offering, perhaps, ancient wisdom—in a way that made some merchant or member of court feel very intellectual while they considered it? The whole image makes me wonder, who is the true protagonist here? Curator: A keen question! Does Tanjé’s commentary support or challenge those established hierarchies of knowledge and status that were emerging within the merchant class at this moment? What do you suppose this could mean for art? Editor: A little cynicism is a healthy thing. Thanks to Tanjé, I now understand the meeting as more performance than profundity—that a truly productive meeting of minds is always an interruption in a bigger landscape, and hopefully equally perplexing for all parties.