Trompe de Chasse in C 1759 - 1769

Curator: Well, doesn't that just gleam! Is that even the right word for brass? Shines maybe? Editor: Quite. And here we have what’s known as a hunting horn or "Trompe de Chasse in C," crafted sometime between 1759 and 1769. Joseph Raoux gets the credit for the piece. It’s on display here at the Met, made from, as you can see, both brass and bronze. Curator: "Hunting Horn" … romantic in a swashbuckling way, like something out of "Barry Lyndon." But tell me more: does the "C" signify the key the horn’s tuned to, then? That elegant spiral—it's less functional than just, you know, really rather lovely. A shiny gold snail! Editor: Precisely that! The C denotes its fundamental tone. What strikes me immediately is the sheer Rococo flourish of it all. Observe how the metallic coils, looping with what seems like playful abandon, somehow still adhere to this very clear, structured design. The aural function seems secondary to the visual performance. Curator: The visual, exactly! Because seriously, could you imagine running through a forest waving *that* around? But you’re right; there's such a beautiful balance between functionality and showing off, isn't there? I wonder about Raoux. What was he trying to evoke beyond the hunting party's call? Was it joy, perhaps a bit of elegant showing-off of metalworking skills? Editor: I’d wager that this instrumental sculpture epitomizes Rococo sensibilities – the spiraling form almost mimicking the era's fondness for curves and flourishes within architecture and other objects. This blending of utilitarian form with lavish decorative impulses suggests the high value of courtly spectacle, I’d say. Curator: Courtly Spectacle, I like that description—makes it a bit cruel though, like a gilded cage to put on display… Anyway, still rather glorious, though! Editor: A fitting note to end on, then. Perhaps it’s enough for some artworks just to flaunt beauty within stringent compositional control.