Jérusalem, Vallée de Josaphat, Face Ouest et Nord, 2 1854 - 1859

Editor: So, here we have Auguste Salzmann’s “Jérusalem, Vallée de Josaphat, Face Ouest et Nord, 2,” an albumen print from the mid-1850s, capturing Jerusalem. The tones feel so muted and austere. What story do you think it tells? Curator: It's less about telling a single story, and more about participating in a specific moment in colonial history. Remember, this was part of a photographic survey. Think about the role photography played then, not just as documentation, but as a tool in understanding and, arguably, controlling distant lands. Editor: So, it's not just a landscape? I mean, it seems very straightforward in its realism. Curator: Realism, yes, but within a specific context. The French government commissioned Salzmann. Who controlled Jerusalem at the time, and what were their interests in having these sites documented with such detail? Editor: Oh, the Ottoman Empire! So France had political motivations behind this? It’s like they’re saying "we have a grasp, a record, of this place." Curator: Precisely. Consider the act of photographing a place like Jerusalem during that period. It wasn’t just about capturing its beauty. It was also about mapping its resources, understanding its topography for potential political and even military strategies. Whose gaze is prioritized here? Editor: I hadn't considered that. It seems almost objective at first glance, but you’re right, it is very much a constructed point of view. I guess photography isn't ever really neutral, is it? Curator: Indeed. It highlights the complex intersection of art, politics, and the shaping of cultural perceptions, doesn't it? What have you found most interesting about our talk? Editor: Definitely thinking about how seemingly neutral images can carry so much historical and political weight. Thanks for this deeper dive!