Sint-Pietersplein te Vaticaanstad 1861 - 1878

Editor: Here we have "Sint-Pietersplein te Vaticaanstad," a photograph taken between 1861 and 1878 by Ernest Eléonor Pierre Lamy. Looking at the sheer scale of the architecture, and how small the people appear, evokes a feeling of, well, being just a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things! What strikes you most about this image? Curator: Oh, it's utterly dreamy, isn't it? Lamy has captured a moment of suspended reality. This wasn't just snapping a photo; it was holding light hostage and teaching it to paint! See how the colossal architecture—the colonnades, the obelisk reaching for the heavens—dwarf the figures? But it's more than just size, isn’t it? It's about faith, about the Vatican as a symbol of something immense and timeless, juxtaposed against the ephemeral nature of us little humans scuttling about our lives. Do you get that sense of contrast too? Editor: I definitely see the contrast, but I hadn't quite framed it as a statement on faith versus everyday life. The stillness in the photo makes it feel almost staged, even though I know it’s a real moment captured in time. Curator: Ah, yes, that stillness... it's like a silent stage where history is perpetually being acted out. Photography in that era often aimed to freeze time, to capture a slice of reality in amber. But it also couldn’t escape injecting its own narrative, consciously or otherwise. Do you feel it inspires a kind of quiet contemplation? Editor: It really does! The image, I mean. It's less of a snapshot and more of a carefully constructed scene. Thank you, that's insightful! Curator: And thank you. Now I need to find an obelisk. My own garden is sorely lacking.