Oval basin or dish with subject from Amadis of Gaul 1554 - 1569

Editor: We’re looking at a rather ornate ceramic dish here at the Met, dating from the mid-16th century. It’s attributed to Orazio Fontana and depicts scenes from "Amadis of Gaul." It’s… incredibly busy. So many tiny figures! It feels like a snapshot of Renaissance epic fantasy. What do you see when you look at it? Curator: You know, busy is a brilliant observation. It’s almost overwhelming, isn’t it? It pulls you into this whirlwind narrative. I find myself lost in the tiny details—the expressions on the horses' faces, the almost comic disarray of battle. Think about the artist, right? Orazio is not only depicting the scene but practically staging it like a miniature theatre. Ever felt you’re looking at the whole world inside a soap bubble? It has that sort of captivating allure for me. What about that ceramic medium? Does that speak to you? Editor: Absolutely. It seems at odds with such a dynamic scene. Ceramic feels so…static. Was this a common way to depict narrative scenes? Curator: Not typically, no! That is the charm and tension of the piece for me. Painting these grand battles on something so fragile and domestic creates this fabulous juxtaposition, almost tongue-in-cheek. It's as if Orazio is asking, “Shouldn’t even your serving ware be telling an epic tale?” Perhaps that tension invites you to touch and engage the piece despite it existing behind glass, no? Editor: It certainly makes me consider the status of ceramics in that period, its interplay between decoration and function! It's not *just* a dish, is it? Curator: Exactly! I always encourage everyone to push that simple boundary we draw between art and usefulness. Food, after all, can be theatre. Plus, thinking of the effort that went into this dish makes you wonder, how did they even begin?! Editor: True! I am definitely approaching dishware differently now!