Untitled (possibly Alice Gertrude Langton Clarke) 1864

Curator: This is a photograph from 1864 attributed to Lewis Carroll, the author of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". It is a gelatin-silver print and is simply called "Untitled (possibly Alice Gertrude Langton Clarke)". Editor: The ethereal quality is striking, isn’t it? The sleeping child nestled in the wicker crib almost disappears into the white fabric; the light itself feels like a character in this scene. Curator: The context of photography at that time is fascinating. Photography was relatively new and a rather arduous process. Portraits like this would have been a considered endeavor. Editor: I feel the peace that little Alice must have felt asleep there in her cradle. Yet it has a fragile air, that might also come from the photographic processes used then? Curator: The Victorian era was a time of very particular approaches to childhood and mourning. To have a picture taken of your child may be precious in a sense that’s more serious than it seems to us today. It's an object imbued with both familial affection, and maybe the worries people had about illness and mortality. Editor: I see that, given that high infant mortality was a somber backdrop to everyday life back then. To capture this quiet repose speaks volumes. What do you see beyond the personal significance? How was a child like Alice perceived in that cultural setting? Curator: Childhood became a more protected, celebrated stage of life in the 19th century. Photographs like this began to both reflect and reinforce that shift, circulating ideas of childhood innocence. The commercial photography studios popped up everywhere. However, because Carroll did not depend on such earnings, it could permit more informal experiments that blur these categories, as this very affecting image demonstrates. Editor: Right, so a shift happened at that time. Now, after observing how Carroll created a quiet symphony with light and shadow and evoked so much emotional depth, I'm left pondering its significance for viewers of his work and for photographic practices as a whole. It feels revolutionary to see this picture right now. Curator: I completely agree, to engage with it today can invite questions on image authorship, artistic license, or just the enduring impact of such a gentle snapshot.