Cartouches Nouvellement Inventez par J.B. Toro 1716

Editor: So, this is "Cartouches Nouvellement Inventez par J.B. Toro" from 1716, made by Jean Bernard Toro. It's a print, an engraving in ink on paper, housed here at the Met. At first glance, it strikes me as incredibly ornate, almost excessively so. I'm curious—what’s your take on it? Curator: Excess, yes, but isn't there a delicious, wilful sort of abundance to it? A joyful flaunting of skill and invention? Look at the line work! Like gossamer spun into tangible form. It makes me think about the ephemeral nature of power, of beauty. These cartouches were often designed for temporary displays, think of royal entries, celebrations...things that glitter then vanish. Almost a melancholy beauty. What does that central space suggest to you? Editor: Hmmm… emptiness? Like, it’s designed to hold something important, but it’s… missing? Curator: Precisely! Perhaps that emptiness is the point. A space for dreams, for aspirations. The frame becomes more important than the picture. It's pure Baroque theater, all about suggestion and implied meaning. I always wonder what was meant to go in these frames... Editor: Like, a mirror to reflect the viewer's own grandeur? Or a portrait, solidifying status? Curator: Or a fleeting image of triumph, lost to time... See those little cherubs? One reaching, one draping, caught in perpetual motion. The artist's imagination running riot on the page, and invites ours to do the same. Doesn’t it just set your imagination alight? Editor: Absolutely! It's not just decoration, it's a statement. A pretty loud one. This conversation gave me a whole new appreciation. Thanks. Curator: And you’ve given me one! It's all about finding stories, right? Every little embellishment leads you to create something more. A little creative whisper from the past to inspire today.