Waterbekken van Salomon in Palestina c. 1867 - 1895

Editor: Right, let’s talk about this fascinating albumen print, "Waterbekken van Salomon in Palestina," or "Solomon's Pools in Palestine," as we'd say in English. It was captured sometime between 1867 and 1895 by Maison Bonfils. It's currently hanging at the Rijksmuseum. There’s a certain serenity to it, but also, I don't know, almost a sense of abandonment. What do you make of it? Curator: Oh, a serene abandonment, that resonates beautifully! It's an evocative dance between presence and absence, isn’t it? The pools themselves, these architectural marvels, nestled within the landscape… they whisper stories of both purpose and time's relentless march. Tell me, does the stark, almost monochrome palette, influence that feeling for you? Editor: Definitely, the tonality makes it feel both distant and immediate. I was also struck by the almost geometric composition, that pool really cuts through the image. What was Bonfils trying to convey with that approach? Curator: I think it’s an intentional tension. On the one hand, photography itself was a relatively new medium at the time, eager to document, to capture the ‘real’. But artists like Bonfils, often imbued with Orientalist perspectives, also sought to evoke a particular mood, an exotic allure. Perhaps that geometric precision is a way of framing the 'other', organizing it for Western eyes? What do you think of that, doesn’t that flatten things slightly? Editor: That's insightful. I see the framing device, I just wonder if it was all that calculated. The way the pools cut through the natural landscape does create an arresting image. It's stark. It definitely pushes past pure documentation, whether intentionally or not. Curator: It’s a paradox then! A document striving to be more. Well, regardless of intention, it clearly speaks to us across the decades. It makes you wonder about its purpose doesn’t it! Editor: It certainly does. I will definitely be back to visit this image!