Hertenstal in Whiddon Park c. 1850 - 1880

Editor: This gelatin-silver print by Francis Bedford, "Hertenstal in Whiddon Park," from around 1850-1880, presents a rustic scene. There's a deer shed surrounded by a wood. I'm struck by the rough, tactile qualities of the thatched roof and the roughly-hewn timbers of the shed itself. What do you see in this piece? Curator: The immediate draw is indeed the materiality of this “deer shed” and the methods of production evident. Note the seemingly crude construction, juxtaposed against the rise of industrial England, around 1850. It asks us to consider the economic and labor forces behind even such apparently simple structures. This photograph isn't just documenting a picturesque scene; it's capturing a moment in a specific process, a specific application of materials, and implicitly, of human labour. How might Bedford be prompting us to interpret the construction process through the photographic process itself? Editor: That's a great point. I hadn't considered the construction aspect of the picture itself; is it possible Bedford wants us to see the simplicity, the hand-made aspects of the shed, especially when photography was just starting to find its own techniques and processes? Curator: Precisely. By capturing this rural architecture in this era of rapid industrialization, is Bedford making a commentary on value – the perceived value of artisanal skills against mass production, the exploitation of resources to fuel industry contrasted to using local materials? The gelatin silver print process itself – reliant on both industry and artistry – is embedded with contradictions of labour and skill. How do the textural qualities achieved through photography shape our understanding of value? Editor: So the value lies in highlighting those processes - of the photograph itself as a tangible product, as well as the building, so that each impacts how we perceive the other. Thank you; that gives me so much to consider. Curator: Indeed, materiality speaks volumes.