Portret van een onbekende man in uniform en veren op zijn helm 1857 - 1914

Curator: And here we have an albumen print simply titled, "Portrait of an Unknown Man in Uniform and Feathers on His Helmet," attributed to Giorgio Sommer, made sometime between 1857 and 1914. Editor: Oh, he looks terribly serious! Like a dandy who's suddenly found himself in a conscripted army. The detail, though, the sheer weight of all that... stuff... must've been something to behold. Curator: Absolutely. Notice how Sommer uses the albumen process to render such fine detail in the uniform—the braiding, the tassels. The very stiff texture of the feathers themselves, it speaks to Realism's interest in observable facts, in minute detail. The composition places him centrally, framed by the sepia tones. Editor: Yes, sepia which only increases a vague, antiquated, and historical effect. It's incredibly formal but those eyes have got some mischief behind them. Is it just me, or is there the slightest hint of a smirk? The tight knot of his arms certainly amplifies the feeling. He knows his plumage is ridiculous. Curator: Perhaps. There's an undeniable tension between the constraints of the photographic process and the man's individuality. And who *was* he, this fellow, forever enshrined in the Rijksmuseum's collection, his identity shrouded in mystery? Sommer seems almost to be saying, here is the essence of... manhood? Officership? In a moment captured for eternity? Editor: Or perhaps, a foppish take on military culture... a commentary of pompous tradition in times of revolution? But regardless, it's stuck with me, this fella and his feathery chapeau. I appreciate that glimpse of… something unspoken… maybe that's what good art always ends up doing.