Proserpina verandert Ascalaphus in een uil 1606 - 1638

Curator: Antonio Tempesta's engraving, "Proserpina verandert Ascalaphus in een uil," dating from between 1606 and 1638, is now before us, here at the Rijksmuseum. Editor: What strikes me immediately is the unsettling nature of the scene, despite the crisp linework. It's a very human moment wrapped in this fantastical, almost feverish transformation. Curator: Indeed! Tempesta captures the precise moment of metamorphosis from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Ascalaphus, punished for tattling on Proserpina, finds himself becoming an owl by her divine hand. Editor: There's a certain drama in the way the figures are posed, especially the hybrid owl-man flailing, like he's about to take flight or just collapse. Tempesta's mastery of line gives it a strange tension, wouldn't you say? Curator: Absolutely, it's Mannerist drama at its best! The stark contrast emphasizes the grotesque, yes, but also invites, I think, reflection on the mutability of form. She gestures towards the unfortunate fellow—her posture suggesting absolute control, but there is something sorrowful in her eyes, or am I projecting? Editor: Project away! Art's an invitation to bring ourselves, right? I see cold, divine justice. The meticulous detail in rendering the landscape too, seems secondary to the allegorical weight of the figure's emotions and narrative. Curator: And those details underscore the story! See the branch she holds aloft with those dark fruits—the seeds which kept her chained in Hades. It serves as a beautiful memento mori of that earlier choice and this final act. A permanent state of purgatory if you will. Editor: I see what you mean, yes, a moment of grief transformed into avian existence. It really prompts one to reconsider narrative, structure, emotion—everything that great art invites! Curator: Precisely. So, what does the viewer ultimately extract? Is it morality or art itself? Food for thought in just this tiny etching, what an achievement!