Twee aanzichten van een menselijke schedel, en profil en bovenaanzicht before 1869

Editor: This is a photograph, a gelatin silver print, titled "Twee aanzichten van een menselijke schedel, en profil en bovenaanzicht"—or "Two views of a human skull, in profile and top view." It's from before 1869 and attributed to an anonymous artist. It feels strangely clinical, but also...vulnerable? I mean, it’s just a skull. What do you make of this piece? Curator: Clinical, yes, but I see more than just vulnerability. Consider the context: pre-1869 photography. Before medical imaging, this level of detail was rare. To me, this print whispers of scientific curiosity, a desperate attempt to understand ourselves from the inside out. It's as if the photographer were chasing shadows of human form. You feel that? What are shadows, really, but whispers and traces? Editor: That's a really evocative way of putting it. I hadn't thought about the scientific aspect so much, more the memento mori tradition, I guess. Curator: Memento mori is undoubtedly present— the eternal awareness of death. However, the objective medium of photography here makes it more about enquiry than acceptance. The anonymous nature intrigues me further; was this commissioned for research perhaps? Look at the way the light falls; highlighting every ridge, every cavity. Editor: So, it's not just a skull, it's a *record* of a skull. Huh. I guess seeing it that way makes the anonymity make a little more sense too. Curator: Exactly. It's humanity peering into the architecture of being. An ancestor captured for future eyes to observe with dispassionate awe. What lasting mark are *we* trying to make, I wonder, compared to this skull's accidental yet stark visibility in today’s world. Editor: That's given me a lot to think about. It really adds so much knowing how new photography still was when this was made.