Lint op rol, gestreept, blauw met magenta, zwart, groen en oranje before 1926

Editor: So, this photograph, taken before 1926 by Gustav Schnitzler, features a roll of ribbon - blue, magenta, black, green and orange stripes all neatly coiled. I find myself surprisingly drawn to this simple, almost mundane object. What resonates with you when you look at this, beyond its aesthetic qualities? Curator: Ah, yes, "Lint op rol, gestreept". What strikes me most is the quiet story it whispers of a different time, before, as the date on the attached paper indicates, April 1928, a world rapidly transforming, when functional objects could possess such visual grace. Does it not feel like a portal, of sorts? And the materiality, too; a tangible, crafted thing amidst our increasingly digital world. Doesn’t the muted colour palette offer a sort of respite? How do you read that little descriptive label clinging to it? What does that evoke? Editor: The label does add a certain… documentary feel. Like an archival record. "10 metres fixes," it declares! Were people documenting the exact meterage of ribbon back then? It’s oddly fascinating. It makes me wonder about the role of photography at the time too; did it elevate the ordinary? Curator: Precisely! It suggests a purpose, an intention, beyond the purely functional. Perhaps Schnitzler saw beauty in the everyday and sought to immortalize it. The very act of photographing elevates it. Do you see the nod to Modernism with the simple composition and direct presentation? Is this a challenge to our idea of ‘high art’ perhaps? I'm rather inclined to think so... Editor: I think I do, yes. It's like a very humble cousin to, say, a Bauhaus design piece. I didn't pick up on the connection to Modernism initially, so, thanks. This image prompts you to reconsider your perspective on simple beauty. Curator: My pleasure. We're so conditioned to chase after spectacle and grand gestures that we risk missing these tender visual poems playing out all around us.