Plate 16: Menghina quiets Cacasenno with a chestnut cake, from "Bertoldo, Bertoldino, and Cacasenno" 1705 - 1715

Editor: This engraving, made between 1705 and 1715 by Giuseppe Maria Crespi, is titled "Plate 16: Menghina quiets Cacasenno with a chestnut cake, from Bertoldo, Bertoldino, and Cacasenno." The scene feels both familiar and foreign, if that makes any sense. I’m drawn to the starkness of the lines and the sort of, quiet domestic drama it depicts. What's your read on this piece? Curator: "Familiar and foreign"...I like that. It's the push and pull of a narrative frozen in time. To me, this image feels deeply human – it's about small moments, isn't it? About the everyday bartering between comfort and discomfort. Crespi had such an interesting eye for the quiet struggles that make up a life. And a chestnut cake as currency? Deliciously ironic. Makes you wonder what transgression required such sweet appeasement! Editor: Right? And looking at it again, the woman’s face – Menghina, I suppose – has this weary, almost melancholic look, as if she's negotiating peace on multiple fronts, not just with the child. What do you make of her expression? Curator: Ah, that weariness. Spot on! To me, it speaks volumes about the roles women often inhabited then, the tireless caregivers. It's a performance, isn’t it? The quick fix, the silencing sweetness. And look at the boy, Cacasenno, clinging to her – a drama in miniature. It’s Baroque, but it feels surprisingly…intimate, wouldn't you say? Editor: Absolutely, despite being a print, it has a real emotional resonance. I hadn’t picked up on the "performance" aspect either - the silence brought about through a cake rather than discussion is pretty telling about power dynamics! It’s been helpful thinking about it through the lens of both intimacy and social roles. Curator: Precisely! And hopefully that chestnut cake will make an appearance at dinner soon. I feel inspired to bake one myself, for purely…artistic reasons, naturally!