Gezicht op de Porta della carta van het Dogepaleis in Venetië c. 1860 - 1880

Editor: This is a photograph taken by Giorgio Sommer, sometime between 1860 and 1880, showing the Porta della Carta at the Doge's Palace in Venice. I'm struck by how… solid it feels. The architecture is so ornate, yet the grey tones and sharp lines give it a real sense of weight. What leaps out at you when you look at this, as an expert? Curator: It whispers to me of layered realities, you know? On one hand, you have this almost stubbornly resilient stone, a testament to the Doge's power etched in every quatrefoil and column. But the very act of capturing it in a photograph, well, it almost etherealizes the stone. The technology captures not just the *thing* itself, but its light, its shadow... its ghost. Does that make sense? Editor: Definitely. The architecture feels ancient and the method feels, by comparison, surprisingly modern. The sharp contrast really brings that out. Did Sommer do other work in Venice? Curator: Oh, yes. Sommer became quite well-known for these meticulously crafted tourist views, like postcards from a dream. Imagine what it must have been like for people back then, to see places they only dreamed about made 'real' through the photograph. And with this stereoscopic technique, there would even be the illusion of three-dimensionality, a step closer to truly transporting them! Almost like a rudimentary form of time travel, wouldn’t you say? Editor: It’s kind of funny to think about Venice becoming a kind of vintage "wish you were here" postcard! So much history compressed into this little view. Curator: Exactly! And don’t forget, each viewing recontextualizes this photograph once more, with each click and glance in the here-and-now. The conversation continues, doesn't it? Editor: It does! It’s been wonderful looking at this photograph. I really feel like I’ve been transported to Venice, twice over.