Embleem met filosoof Heraclitus 1681 - 1737

Curator: I'm struck by the melancholic mood in this engraving, "Emblem with the philosopher Heraclitus." It’s all in the lines, the etching of a world-weary expression. Editor: Yes, the baroque era certainly loved its allegories of sorrow. What you're responding to, I think, is part of a well-worn visual trope—François van Bleyswijck produced this somewhere between 1681 and 1737. These "emblems," as they were called, were very much a product of their time, functioning as little moral lessons. Curator: Little? He looks ready to burst into tears next to that globe! It's not just sorrow though. It's seeing through the facade, seeing how "truth crawls along the ground," as the text below puts it. Heavy stuff, made delicate by the line work. Editor: The inscription is definitely key. Bleyswijck’s work participates in a much wider system of representation. He presents a familiar, almost stock figure and a poetic description designed to evoke contemplation on grand themes like truth, justice, and… well, despair, I suppose. It really does seem a bit overwrought to modern eyes. Curator: Maybe we need a good dose of overwrought these days! Everything’s so cynical. What if he’s not world-weary, but world-hopeful, weeping at the potential, the fragile balance represented by that globe? Perhaps he's got allergies! Editor: Haha, I like the allergies theory. That is certainly a much kinder reading, considering this work hangs in the Rijksmuseum, hopefully offering some visitors a moment to reflect upon themselves and society. Curator: Indeed. Perhaps to pause, see a piece of our own reflections. You never know which bit of historical expression might set off our heart’s string and bring some truth.