Bonchurch Hotel in Bonchurch Possibly 1889

Curator: Looking at this photograph, “Bonchurch Hotel in Bonchurch,” likely taken around 1889 by Henry Pauw van Wieldrecht, I find myself daydreaming about seaside holidays of yore. Editor: Immediately I’m struck by its stillness—that palpable Victorian sense of order and control. The composition is quite formal, and despite the verdant overgrowth, the hotel appears… well, rather stoic. Curator: You've nailed it! It has a beautifully melancholy air. Note the detail etched into the facade, the way nature and the architecture interact. It’s an interesting dance between what is being built versus what remains from the surrounding land. It could be an excellent setting for a gothic horror film, don't you think? Editor: Absolutely, though let’s consider who could actually afford a stay there back then. A hotel of this size speaks volumes about class, leisure, and access in the late 19th century. Whose holidays were these, really? Curator: Of course, luxury wasn’t democratized yet. Still, I am pulled in by the sepia tones; I could almost smell the sea breeze in the air, that crisp light promises lazy afternoons spent in quiet contemplation of natural beauty. Editor: It presents a romantic facade. But photography, even then, could obscure social realities. How many workers maintained the gardens, cleaned the rooms, served the meals? This photograph elides a whole labour force to present an image of serene bourgeois escape. Curator: Always bringing us back to earth! Maybe I needed that splash of reality. It's hard to argue, even when the photo itself is pretty wonderful. Editor: It is a gorgeous example of period photography— the clarity, composition—but we must be wary of uncritically consuming such idealized imagery, however lovely it may be at first glance. The narrative of a single, often privileged, perspective. Curator: Exactly! A balance to all things... so it appears our photograph offers more than just a pretty picture after all. Editor: Indeed, hopefully we’ve given listeners some food for thought about image-making and the stories these images tend to obscure.