Eerste vrede van Parijs tussen Frankrijk en de geallieerden, ter ere van Alexander I, tsaar van Rusland 1814

Editor: We're looking at an engraving commemorating the First Peace of Paris in 1814, celebrating Alexander I, Tsar of Russia. The Rijksmuseum attributes it to an anonymous artist, rendered in metal. It reminds me of an old coin, worn with time, and I'm struck by its solemn declaration of peace after the Napoleonic wars. What story does this little object tell, do you think? Curator: Ah, it whispers of grand ambition, doesn't it? Like a pocket-sized epic! Consider how this small metal disc aimed to capture, for posterity, the momentous occasion. It presents Alexander not merely as a man but as a classical hero, embodying victory and the dawn of a new, hopefully less bloody, era. Notice the Neoclassical style, echoing Roman imperial imagery; a clever move to legitimize power, don't you think? I wonder, does it feel genuine, or perhaps…a tad performative to you? Editor: Performative, definitely! The inscription is a bit much. But to have carried this in your pocket at the time – you'd be constantly reminded of the fragile peace. What do you think the symbolism of the wreath on the reverse might be? Curator: Good eye! That wreath speaks volumes. Traditionally, laurel wreaths symbolized victory and honor. By encircling the word "Peace," it visually links military success with the resulting treaty. The interesting paradox here is it’s a celebration of peace rooted in war! It also marks the return to some semblance of order. Looking at this today, I'm struck by how such objects can unintentionally reveal so much about a particular moment's hopes and anxieties. Editor: I hadn’t thought of it that way. I was so focused on the figure, that I missed some elements! Curator: Precisely! Each viewing unfolds another layer, a different resonance, just like history itself, isn't it curious? Editor: Absolutely, I see this print with completely new eyes now!