Basilica della Santissima Annunziata del Vastato, Genua 1898

Editor: So, this is Fratelli Alinari's photograph, "Basilica della Santissima Annunziata del Vastato, Genua," from 1898. It's a black and white print depicting a bustling cityscape with a grand basilica as the focal point. The architectural details are impressive, but there's almost a melancholic atmosphere. What jumps out at you when you look at this piece? Curator: Ah, melancholy! I feel it too. It's not just the sepia tones of age, is it? This photo, to me, captures a moment on the cusp of transformation. Look at the people – caught between the age of horse-drawn carriages and the dawn of something new. Are they going about their business with a heavy tread, do you think? The neoclassical basilica is there - massive, solid – yet somehow dwarfed, rendered poignant, by the vibrant energy around it. It speaks of time itself, its relentless march and the impermanence of all things, grand or small. What kind of stories do you imagine happening just outside the frame? Editor: That’s interesting – that juxtaposition. I hadn't really thought about the transition that was happening at the time. I was too focused on the church itself, but what is special about neoclassicism to it, and why does it makes it special? Curator: Well, Neo-classicism often harks back to a supposed Golden Age, an idealised past. A search for order. In photography’s infancy, it seems all the more potent, no? Alinari doesn't romanticise it – instead it becomes an emblem of what is passing away – or morphing into something else. Think of it as life echoing art! Editor: That’s a perspective I never would have considered. Thanks, it certainly gives me a fresh pair of eyes for understanding it. Curator: My pleasure! Remember art speaks differently, uniquely, to all of us, if we’re only ready to listen closely enough!