Portret van Nicolas Lefèvre 1682

Curator: The gaze feels… penetrating, doesn’t it? This is a Baroque intaglio, an engraving of Nicolas Lefèvre by Nicolas de Larmessin I, dating back to 1682. You can find this impression at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: Absolutely. And, to be honest, a little intimidating. Those eyes bore into you, don't they? It feels like he knows all my secrets, or maybe just my flaws. It has a powerful, immediate presence, achieved entirely in black and white, incredibly intricate work! Curator: The intaglio medium really lends itself to that intensity. Larmessin was a master of capturing texture, and the contrast of the crisp lines against the white paper amplifies every detail. The lines in his garments, for example—they almost vibrate with energy. Think of intaglio prints like coded maps—every cross-hatched line has emotional, political, religious weight; Larmessin uses the language of his day to tell us who Nicolas Lefèvre was. Editor: It makes me wonder what symbols and societal structures formed this man? Lefèvre... was he important? I like how, in portraiture, especially then, the subject wasn’t just the *person*, but also his position in the grand scheme of things. Like looking at a constellation instead of just one star. Curator: Lefèvre was a physician and chemist, which explains the Latin 'Faber' in the print's lettering — craftsman, alchemist almost. These scientific figures were important players. It looks as if Larmessin gave him that certain ‘Baroque swagger’, to solidify him in this world. A man in the court of Louis XIV. Editor: Definitely swagger. He carries himself with purpose. It's more than just a portrait, really. It's a cultural artifact, preserving not just a likeness, but a whole worldview. Almost a warning look on his face! Curator: Right? It shows how much we still feel echoes from his time.