Kloostergang in de Paternosterkerk op de Olijfberg in Jeruzalem 1867 - 1885

Editor: Here we have Félix Bonfils's photograph, "Kloostergang in de Paternosterkerk op de Olijfberg in Jeruzalem," dating from 1867-1885. It's a rather stark monochrome print. I'm struck by the oppressive repetition of arches and the seemingly endless corridor. What catches your eye about this piece? Curator: Ah, yes! Bonfils, a master of light and shadow, capturing not just a space but a feeling, a presence. Notice how the light diminishes into the distance, drawing your eye towards a point of…mystery. But it's the textures, too. The worn stones whisper of history, of countless footsteps and muttered prayers. This photograph isn’t just *of* the cloister, it *is* the cloister. What do you imagine echoes in that space? Silence? Prayers? Editor: I definitely feel the sense of silence... maybe a quiet murmur? The plates lining the walls seem to be reflecting a similar, murmured prayer in repetition. It does provoke a pensive mood, or am I projecting? Curator: Project all you like! Art *needs* our projections, our echoes of the self. The repetition is almost meditative, don’t you think? Like chanting… or maybe the anxious repetition of worried thoughts? And consider Bonfils himself - a European capturing a holy site in Jerusalem! What was his perspective? Was it reverence, scientific curiosity, or something in between? Editor: That is quite a question! I hadn't considered the artist's position in all of this, but it definitely reframes my thinking of it. Thank you for opening my eyes to it. Curator: My pleasure! Art history isn't about dates and titles - it's about seeing, feeling, questioning. And isn't that much more interesting?