Portret van een onbekende man 1867 - 1880

Editor: So, this is a gelatin silver print dating from between 1867 and 1880. It's a portrait of an unknown man by Willem Gerhardus Kuijer, held at the Rijksmuseum. He looks like someone's stern grandfather. What really strikes you when you look at this piece? Curator: It whispers tales of fleeting moments and bygone eras. What stories do you think those eyes have seen, eh? Photography in that period was just tiptoeing into its power—it makes me wonder about this fellow’s place in society, what was it like for him to sit for a portrait? Was he self-conscious, aware of history in the making? Editor: That's interesting. I hadn't thought about the self-consciousness aspect of posing for a photograph back then. Curator: Right? Now, his expression has got this hint of seriousness, perhaps, or just plain discomfort under the hot studio lights. Also the artist’s framing gives a strange sense of importance… Editor: That oval shape is so definitive. Curator: Indeed, and you know what I think? The contrast between that darkness and his fair hair almost feels…dreamlike. Do you see what I mean? As though we’re peering into a faded dream. It gives the picture that delicate touch of transience, of life passing. Editor: I do. It really invites contemplation, thinking about all those invisible stories of people we pass every day. It also highlights how photography was rapidly becoming a social leveler. Curator: Exactly! So wonderfully put. What started off as privilege ended up democratizing portraits… Food for thought, eh? Editor: Totally. Thanks! I’ll definitely look at photographs differently from now on.