Granada-La torre de Justicia(entrada de la Alhambra) c. 1857 - 1880

Curator: What a stark image. I’m struck by the sheer age radiating from this photograph. Editor: Absolutely. This albumen print, dating roughly from 1857 to 1880, captures the entrance to the Alhambra's Tower of Justice in Granada, Spain. The photographer is Juan Laurent. The muted color palette really contributes to the somber atmosphere. Curator: Yes, somber is the right word. The heavy shadows, the wear on the stone... it feels like a testament to time and perhaps, even a witness to countless judgments passed. That archway, a symbol of transition, promising both entry and possibly, exclusion. I'm immediately reminded of archetypal images of fortified entries. Editor: Precisely. This structure, beyond its aesthetic appeal, stands as a potent symbol of power and control. Consider its historical context – the Alhambra's complex legacy as both a Moorish palace and a Christian fortress after the Reconquista. Laurent's photograph invites us to reflect on the dynamics of cultural dominance and the erasure or preservation of Islamic artistic traditions under colonial rule. Curator: I am thinking of how this photograph serves as a sort of portal. The Tower itself represents the threshold between worlds and the architecture integrates many cultural symbols that have been appropriated throughout history and that survive to this day. Editor: It also subtly critiques the power dynamics of the 19th century when Europeans were busy exoticizing and appropriating non-Western cultures. By simply presenting the architecture without commentary, Laurent allows the structure to speak for itself, posing unspoken questions about cultural ownership and historical narrative. Curator: What resonates most for me is that sense of enduring presence. Even stripped of vibrant color, the image continues to speak, bridging past and present through the shared visual language of architecture and symbolism. Editor: Agreed. Looking at this photograph forces me to reckon with history and power, even as I marvel at its intricate composition and enduring relevance to conversations around cultural identity and representation.