Dimensions: height 139 mm, width 78 mm
Copyright: Rijks Museum: Open Domain
Curator: I find myself drawn to the raw, unpretentious energy crackling off of Bernard Picart's "Allegorische titelpagina met Thalia". There’s a looseness here, a vibrancy. Editor: This engraving, dating back to 1730, really gives you a sense of theater! It seems incredibly detailed for such a small print. What strikes you most about it? Curator: The organized chaos, without a doubt. It’s like peering into a teeming hive of creative collaboration, all orchestrated under the watchful eye of Thalia, the muse of comedy. Can you sense the playful tension, almost a dare to take art off of the lofty pedestal? The acrobat seems symbolic, wouldn’t you agree, a tightrope walker balancing 'high' and 'low' culture? Editor: Definitely, that sense of 'organized chaos' really hits the mark! It also occurs to me that some of the people in the audience upstage are actively mocking what’s going on! What statement is Picart making there? Curator: Perhaps he's playfully suggesting the futility of critics? Maybe that even in laughter there's space for mockery and judgement, both equally valid. It reminds us not to take ourselves, or art, too seriously! It's meant to be savored, ridiculed, and ultimately, *felt*. What feeling bubbles up in you, looking at this? Editor: I hadn’t considered that interpretation! I'd always taken Thalia's inclusion as this straightforward homage, rather than Picart suggesting this... gentle subversiveness. Thanks! I suppose, looking at the print, that the next time I'm at a play, I won’t just watch; I’ll feel it, judge it, maybe even ridicule it a bit. It’s freeing, isn’t it? Curator: Absolutely freeing! That's the true alchemy of experiencing art, letting it stir something unpredictable within us. That's how a simple engraving can transcend time.
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