Zonnewijzer in de tuin van het huis Kersbergen, Zeist c. 1914

Editor: Here we have Lambertus Hendrik van Berk's photograph, "Zonnewijzer in de tuin van het huis Kersbergen, Zeist," taken around 1914. The muted tones create such a tranquil, almost melancholic atmosphere. It's essentially a garden scene dominated by a sundial encircled by rose bushes. What strikes you most when you look at it? Curator: What whispers to me, truly, is the dance between time and timelessness, isn't it? This sundial, frozen in a captured moment, amidst the ever-blooming roses. Do you think Van Berk meant to give us a visual metaphor, or perhaps a cheeky paradox? "Here's the measure of your days," it seems to say, "and here's nature, oblivious, spilling its beauty across the moments." Doesn't the colour itself feel suspended in a bygone era, almost as if the roses know a secret we’ve forgotten? Editor: It definitely gives off that vibe. It feels very deliberate and symbolic. It makes me wonder, though, about the location – this "Kersbergen" estate. Was it significant, a private sanctuary perhaps? Curator: A delicious question. Was it just any garden or a curated Eden? That sundial, does it merely mark hours, or a life lived in cultivated beauty? Think about the early 20th century— photography becoming more accessible, a desire to capture and preserve a certain kind of privileged existence. A way of saying, ‘this beauty existed, and I, Van Berk, saw it’. Editor: It adds so many layers when you consider that historical context. The sundial goes beyond being an object; it becomes a symbol of that specific time. Curator: Precisely. We gaze at that garden today, a hundred-plus years distant, ourselves now measured by time's relentless hand. Editor: That really changes how I perceive it! It's more than just a picture of flowers; it’s an intersection of time, beauty, and privilege caught in a single frame. Curator: And isn't that what art is all about: not just seeing, but perceiving?