Portret van Willem Witsen op zijn doodsbed 1923

Curator: Oh, that’s… striking. So stark, so utterly still. Like a captured echo of finality. Editor: Indeed. What we see here is a gelatin silver print by Julius Heinrich Hisgen, created in 1923. It’s titled “Portret van Willem Witsen op zijn doodsbed”—a portrait of Willem Witsen on his deathbed. Curator: Knowing it's a deathbed portrait gives it a whole other dimension, doesn’t it? There’s a vulnerability in seeing someone like this, stripped bare of life's pretense. It’s deeply intimate, yet distanced. Editor: It's certainly an example of momento-mori, a genre that reflects on mortality. Hisgen's choice of photography captures a unique, almost clinical view of death, shaped by early 20th-century cultural attitudes towards remembrance and mourning. Curator: Clinical but tender, maybe? I keep coming back to the light, how it softly grazes his face. There’s a gentle focus, almost reverent. As though Hisgen wasn’t just documenting death, but honouring a life passed. Do you see it? Editor: Yes, though I see a strong relationship with the institutionalization of death at this time. Photography enabled wider public access to mourning rituals, democratizing what was previously limited to the upper classes who could afford painted portraits. These kinds of images offered a way to process grief. Curator: Perhaps… or perhaps photography became the great leveler. Regardless of wealth, in death we are all subject to stillness, quiet. Editor: Precisely. And this portrait exists today, as an artifact of personal grief that resonates within a broader public context. This image reflects Hisgen’s sensitivity and speaks volumes about shifting social customs related to mortality and commemoration. Curator: So, while clinical in medium, profoundly human in subject and impact. What a juxtaposition. Editor: Indeed. An invitation to contemplate our own temporal existence through a very personal depiction. Curator: Makes you want to truly *see* the people you love, before the light fades. Thanks, Julius. That's... something to think about.