Zomer 1637 - 1671

Curator: This print, titled "Zomer"—Dutch for "Summer"—dates back to the period of 1637 to 1671. What's your immediate take? Editor: There's something melancholic about this idealized Summer. The figure, dressed as summer personified, seems almost trapped within the frame. I wonder about the disconnect between this portrayal and the brutal labor usually associated with harvest time. Curator: I find that sadness quite intriguing, because, to me, Summer always sings with ripe corn and long hours. The figure’s flowing dress evokes an ease and richness which is highlighted through the intricate lines, hallmarks of Baroque engraving. I feel the promise of warm bread and lazy afternoons in this piece. Editor: But whose ease are we seeing here? The engraver presents a figure removed from the actual labor of summer, someone who holds a sickle with the practiced awkwardness of a weekend gardener. This piece is a celebration of leisure more than a portrait of summer, abstracted from the backbreaking toil that is often overlooked. Curator: Perhaps this is about taking a little breather, finding beauty amidst that labor. Think of a painter capturing the dance of wheat swaying in the fields – finding poetry within the ordinary. You could call it a landscape imbued with symbolic meaning. It makes you wonder what’s waiting around the bend… a pitcher of lemonade, a hidden lover? Editor: I’d argue that that imagined lemonade and those secret liaisons were certainly not afforded to everyone. Representing the seasons this way can re-inscribe existing hierarchies by glorifying the very social structures that allow some to be idle while others do not. We should, after all, consider it in light of global capitalism's history of appropriating the labor of Black and brown people, the dispossession of peasants from the land, and gendered divisions of labor. Curator: Fair point. Maybe I'm longing for a simplicity that never quite existed. It does open a door for richer storytelling, I suppose. Thank you. Editor: My pleasure. It always serves as a gentle reminder to question our inherent biases when engaging with art.