Oluf Hunger 1646

Editor: This is "Oluf Hunger," an engraving dating back to 1646. It's housed at the SMK, Statens Museum for Kunst. I am struck by the density of the linework; the image of the regal man almost seems to emerge from a sea of ink. What aspects stand out to you? Curator: Well, firstly, what a magnificent mustache! But more seriously, looking at this portrait I’m drawn to the text. “Hunger” wasn't actually this King Oluf’s given name, but something the people called him. And reading the text at the bottom it sounds like it wasn’t necessarily a term of endearment. How do you think that connection to the artist would have worked? Editor: Hmm, interesting. You're right, reading it again, there’s a strong sense of... well, maybe not hatred, but certainly some disapproval in that nickname being recorded. So, is the artist subtly siding with the populace in this depiction, offering a critique even in what seems like a formal portrait? Curator: Precisely! Look at how the engraving is composed. While he’s in armour and crowned, there's a slightly haunted look in his eyes. Do you think that's intentional, or just a result of the artist's technique? Because to me it reads a little like guilt. What if he actually agreed that this leader wasn't necessarily the ideal? Or perhaps even played a role in the king getting the unflattering nickname? I always wonder, you know? The echoes from the past through a singular moment in artistic capture are almost otherworldly, a collaboration between so many more players than is often understood at first glance. Editor: I never thought of portraiture having that degree of nuance and implication. This makes me want to dig a little deeper, go beyond the face value to explore these hidden dialogues and stories. Curator: Exactly! It’s a bit of time-travel in the most curious, and visual, way, don’t you think?