Portret van een onbekende vliegenier in een vliegtuig before 1915

Curator: The delicate tonal range here is really quite something. A sort of understated tension. Editor: We're looking at a gelatin silver print entitled "Portrait of an Unknown Aviator in an Aeroplane," attributed to Roger Gatelet and dating from before 1915. The sepia tones and sharp focus on the figure really set a tone for the age. Curator: The subject is undeniably framed in such a way as to bring his figure to a symbolic significance: note the structural division between land and sky and how his location within the wings elevates him, so to speak. And how that same division between solid and airy material contrasts in texture with that of the greenery beyond. Editor: It is rather romantic, this aviator as a solitary figure, right at the dawn of flight. I wonder about the context, though. Aviation was developing so rapidly at that time, becoming less of a sideshow and more integrated into military strategy on the cusp of World War I. What's the public perception here? Are these merely gentlemen enjoying a hobby, or is there already a darker awareness? Curator: The very fact that the aircraft is photographed from a ground-level position makes the viewer an awed spectator, participating in this very sense of romantic newness. Editor: Perhaps, but also a distanced spectator. We're separated by the machinery, literally and figuratively. It’s hard to imagine the pilot's emotions; he remains, ultimately, unknown. But what is fascinating, ultimately, is that in such portraits of flight, technology itself gains cultural capital and becomes romanticized by being portrayed by means such as a fine gelatin silver print. Curator: An interesting notion—but that framing of his form remains vital! We should emphasize that further for our visitors, I think. Editor: Indeed; there are certainly many nuances for each visitor to extrapolate from the photograph.