Canal Grande met paleizen, de basiliek van Santa Maria della Salute en de Fondamente Salute in Venetië 1860 - 1881

Curator: Looking at this gelatin silver print from Carlo Ponti, captured between 1860 and 1881, I’m immediately drawn to the dreamlike quality it evokes. It’s the Grand Canal, framed by grand palaces, isn’t it? There’s something wonderfully melancholic about it. Editor: Melancholic, yes, and dripping with colonial and capitalist history, don't you think? This cityscape flattens Venice into a picturesque commodity for consumption, even then, by the emerging middle class. It is romanticizing a place deeply shaped by complex power dynamics. Curator: Ah, always the historical lens! And I get that. But before all that critical analysis settles in, let's just appreciate how Ponti captured the serene stillness of the water. The light plays beautifully off those palatial facades. It feels as if time has stood still in the floating city. Editor: It's a technique known as pictorialism, so he's consciously imitating painting, domesticating the threat of industrial technology with a supposedly softer medium. I would only add that time never stands still, right? Venice then, and even more now, struggles with questions of heritage and change, who has access to this dreamscape, and who is left out. Curator: Okay, yes, access is definitely part of the story! Ponti presents us with a version of Venice designed, maybe, for the well-to-do traveler. I admit to sometimes wanting to get away from those power struggles, however momentarily. Am I totally alone in yearning for that beautiful stillness? Editor: No, not at all. It’s beautiful precisely because it makes us think of something beyond our material reality. It speaks to our human desire to be connected and transcend historical oppression. But those moments of peace always come with the challenge to imagine a more free, more just experience. Curator: So perhaps that bittersweet pang I feel isn't just melancholy after all. Maybe it’s the bittersweet ache of wanting—and imagining—a better world, even here, in a vintage photo of Venice. Editor: Precisely! The tension between reality and representation is exactly what makes it compelling. And for me it points to a history in need of unpacking.