Portret van een onbekende jongen in een communiepak c. 1882 - 1927

Carel Frederik Cordes made this photographic print of an unknown boy in a communion suit sometime in the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. The sepia tones give the whole thing a kind of dreamy feel, like a memory fading at the edges. Look at how the boy's posture seems to suggest a kind of forced formality, he's leaning slightly on the chair, not quite at ease. You can imagine him shifting and fidgeting while the photographer fussed around with the equipment. His expression is unreadable. What is he thinking? There's something so endearing about the material qualities of old photographs, the way they fade and stain over time, each imperfection telling a story. It reminds us that art isn't just about capturing a perfect image, it's about embracing the imperfections and allowing for multiple interpretations. Think of the work of someone like Luc Tuymans, who uses similar muted tones and deliberately blurs the lines between reality and fiction.