Jerusalem from the Wall of En-Rogel 1857

Curator: Standing before us is Francis Frith's "Jerusalem from the Wall of En-Rogel," taken in 1857. It's an albumen print, showcasing his remarkable skill in capturing landscapes. Editor: It's like a dreamscape, all muted browns and creams. The ruins in the foreground almost whisper stories of a time long gone. Curator: Frith was quite intentional in capturing this region; his photography of the Middle East during the Victorian era provided many in Europe and America with their first glimpse of these landscapes, feeding into Orientalist themes prevalent at the time. Editor: You know, it’s interesting. At first glance, it seems almost…desolate. But the longer I look, the more I see life clinging to those hills, a testament to resilience. Like a visual poem about enduring. Curator: The high vantage point he chose is significant. From En-Rogel, one sees Jerusalem not merely as a city, but as a layered historical site. Walls within walls, evidence of constant reconstruction. The technical skill to capture such detail is impressive, too. Albumen prints offer great tonal range. Editor: The detail is incredible, you can see the individual stones that compose the wall of Jerusalem! It is desolate, but at the same time calming, like everything's settling back to dust and somehow it is... peaceful. I wonder what Frith wanted people to think about the city in his shot. Curator: Frith was deeply involved in debates around imperial expansion, civilization, and religious destiny. He produced a commodity: picturesque views for the metropolitan public. The “Holy Land” presented for their viewing pleasure. Editor: So it's loaded, isn't it? I'm sitting here waxing poetic about peaceful desolation, and he may have intended for it to spark a craving for conquest. It shifts everything. Makes me rethink how easily our emotions can be swayed by a clever image. Curator: Precisely. That is, perhaps, the most enduring element. Editor: Art: still messing with us, centuries later. Gotta love it.