Gezicht op Venetië, gezien vanaf de Campanile van Venetië 1855 - 1875

Editor: Here we have an image, a gelatin silver print dating back to somewhere between 1855 and 1875. It's titled "View of Venice, seen from the Campanile of Venice." Looking at the sepia tones, and the slightly hazy perspective, what strikes you most about it? Curator: You know, it's funny, I'm instantly transported to the sensation of being a bird – soaring above, a little lost, watching Venice unfold like some aged, elegant map. What fascinates me is how this almost mechanical eye – early photography, remember – tries to capture something deeply organic: a living, breathing city. Does it succeed, do you think, or does it just hint at Venice’s soul? Editor: It definitely hints at something… maybe its vastness? I hadn’t thought about the contrast between the technology and the organic feel, that's a good point. There's so much detail, but the overall effect is quite dreamlike. What's your take on the composition? Curator: For me, the dome acts like this central sun, radiating power, spiritual heft. And look at how the architecture kind of tumbles forward. It feels deliberately unstructured, almost defiant, compared to more rigid cityscapes of the era. As if Venice, even then, was declaring its beautiful, chaotic individuality. Don't you think there's something gloriously rebellious about it? Editor: Rebellious photography of a rebellious city... I like that a lot! It also highlights how much information is lost in older photos. It's great how it makes us consider how a scene's interpretation has changed as photography and our perspective have progressed. Thanks, that’s a new perspective for me! Curator: And for me, a reminder that art, whatever its form, is always a kind of echo – vibrating through time, coloured by both its era and our own longing.