Lyons, 3rd Base, Philadelphia Athletics, from the Old Judge series (N172) for Old Judge Cigarettes 1888

Editor: This is a photographic print from 1888 of a baseball player named Lyons, who played 3rd base for the Philadelphia Athletics. It’s from a series called “Old Judge” and was used as an advertisement for cigarettes, strangely enough. He's caught mid-catch, looking intensely at the ball as it comes down... What catches your eye about this image? Curator: What tickles me is the whole dance between commerce and… heroism, I suppose! Think about it: this tiny portrait, meant to be tossed away with a cigarette pack, now resides in the hallowed halls of the Met. It’s a gorgeous little thing, a window into a bygone era of sepia-toned dreams. It tells us a story far beyond just baseball; it whispers of aspiration and image-making in a time when photography was still something of a novelty. Doesn't the way Lyons is posed—reaching for that ephemeral ball—make you think of classical sculptures of gods and heroes? Editor: Absolutely! I hadn’t thought about the connection to sculpture, but I see it now. It's like they were trying to elevate him somehow. Curator: Precisely! And the backdrop—that hazy, indeterminate landscape—adds to the feeling of timelessness. It's not just about selling cigarettes; it's about selling an ideal. I love the slightly awkward yet completely earnest nature of the portrait. You get the sense they're crafting something bigger than just a baseball card. Do you think that "awkwardness" somehow enhances the feeling of authenticity? Editor: I do! It feels much more real than some overly polished image would. I guess seeing it that way, knowing it’s in the Met now… I’m appreciating the story of the image itself, almost more than the baseball player in it. Curator: Right? It has escaped its initial context and become a tiny portal to another world, a sepia-toned dream. To think it was once a tiny part of selling cigarettes and is now displayed in a museum, that gives me a sense of completion.