Gezicht in het Colosseum te Rome 1852 - 1900

Curator: I find this early photograph of the Colosseum in Rome utterly mesmerizing. It is titled "Gezicht in het Colosseum te Rome," putting it in a Dutch context for our collection at the Rijksmuseum, yet it transcends place, and also time. It’s a gelatin-silver print made sometime between 1852 and 1900 by Fratelli Alinari. Editor: What strikes me first is the stark, almost haunted stillness. There's a certain symmetry in its ruin, despite the evident decay. A kind of petrified violence, don't you think? Curator: Yes, but that decay is so much of its character. The light and shadow playing across those broken arches… it is not merely a record; it’s a portrait of resilience and the weight of history. I feel it holds a romanticism that invites you to wander and meditate on lost lives. Editor: Absolutely. The materiality, captured with that subtle tonality typical of gelatin-silver prints, invites deeper consideration. Look at the interplay between the architectural framework and the soft textures of the exposed stone, nature pushing into the void created by humanity. This dialectic seems fundamental here. Curator: I wonder what those who frequented the arena would think of this perspective? The perspective the photographers took, and maybe the feeling they were going for. A landscape format allows for a sweeping vista. Editor: Well, they likely couldn't envision this precise representation! But one could say Fratelli Alinari has created more than just a cityscape; it's a carefully constructed scene. A symbolic staging of temporal dissonance. What happened, what persists… it all collapses here. Curator: Precisely! Perhaps in trying to encapsulate the enormity and layers within such an infamous place they succeeded in communicating to us the deep impression it has on our human journey. Editor: It is compelling to witness how photography freezes and aestheticizes a narrative of brutality and grandeur simultaneously. I think it pushes me to feel melancholic, yet intrigued.