Geseling van Christus c. 1627 - 1661

Editor: So, here we have Abraham J. Conradus's engraving, "Geseling van Christus", created sometime between 1627 and 1661. It’s such a stark depiction of violence – a real emotional punch to the gut. It feels…uncomfortably intimate. What do you see in this piece, beyond the obvious brutality? Curator: Oh, it’s a heart-wrenching scene isn’t it? I can almost feel the sting of those lashes. You know, I find myself strangely drawn to the contrast between the rough, almost barbaric energy of the figures surrounding Christ and his serene, almost accepting pose. What does that tell you about power, about belief, about suffering, at the time? I'm especially drawn to the use of light, accentuating the drama, typical of Baroque aesthetics, no? Editor: Definitely. It’s as though all the light is focused on him. Did the artist choose this subject and dramatic style simply for shock value? Curator: Not at all. Shock might be a byproduct, sure. But engravings like these in that era often served as potent visual sermons. Remember, literacy wasn’t universal. An image could speak volumes and embed messages in ways words alone couldn't. Look how Christ becomes almost superhuman in his stillness and how the details on those savage faces condemn them. Notice that the text in the cartouche does actually say: "Through his wounds we are healed". It's about faith under duress. The question becomes, for me: do we, the viewers, come away changed, even healed? Editor: That gives me a completely new perspective. I was focused on the violence, but it’s so much more than just that, it's supposed to lift you up somehow. Curator: Exactly! Art is a dialogue; engravings invite us to converse.