Plattegrond van Delfshaven c. 1657 - 1728

Curator: At the Rijksmuseum, we’re observing a print titled "Plattegrond van Delfshaven," an engraving that offers us a glimpse into this Dutch city somewhere between 1657 and 1728, by an anonymous artist. Editor: Ah, yes! Instantly, I feel like an all-powerful giant overlooking this miniature city. It’s all so meticulously laid out. And I find the visual simplicity of the linework kind of meditative. Curator: I appreciate that observation. The layout does serve as a formal overview of the port town, showcasing the relationships between different spaces – residential, commercial, the sea, and agriculture. It uses geometric design in order to orient the viewer and the city in the world. Editor: The geometric patterns are grounding. And you see those cows dotting the landscape around the perimeter? The contrast between the natural world and that gridded inner sanctum makes the town feel safe, like a fortress. Curator: That’s perceptive. Cities in the Dutch Golden Age were emblems of order and prosperity. This kind of formal representation was important to civic pride. The network of canals that connect the land with the sea makes this port city and its trading power accessible to the viewer. Editor: But there’s something sad here, too. These maps always evoke the sense of lives lived but forever frozen in the past, just like ghosts or an imagined utopia that can never exist in the present. Curator: A melancholic feeling is understandable. Though the town no doubt experienced growth and change, in the cultural memory, it becomes a fixed ideal, a lost moment. This geometric rendering invites us to return imaginatively and locate ourselves in the matrix of human endeavor that makes the image more than just geography. Editor: Maybe it’s just me projecting my romanticism, then! Whatever it is, though, this quiet map speaks volumes. Curator: I agree; its silences let us wander freely, to re-draw our own understanding of its time and ours.