Imperial Summer Palace Yuen Min Yuen, Pekin, Before the Burning, October 18, 1860 1860

Editor: Here we have Felice Beato's photograph, "Imperial Summer Palace Yuen Min Yuen, Pekin, Before the Burning, October 18, 1860," an albumen print capturing a scene just before a tragic moment in history. There's a stillness, a quiet grandeur here, but it's overlaid with the knowledge of what’s to come – the destruction. What feelings or ideas does it spark for you? Curator: Ah, yes, the stillness… it's almost eerie, isn’t it? Like the air is holding its breath. This isn’t just a picture; it’s a ghost of a place, a memory etched in sepia tones. You see the intricate details of the architecture, this delicate balance of stone and sky. And the knowledge of what followed haunts every shadow. I imagine Beato, racing against time, capturing this doomed beauty. The burning occurred as a form of retribution by the British and French armies. It’s about power, loss, and the fleeting nature of empires, don’t you think? Editor: Absolutely. Knowing it was taken right before the burning adds a huge layer of complexity. Do you think Beato was aware of the historical weight he was capturing? Curator: I like to think so. Though perhaps not fully. Artists often act as unwitting time capsules, preserving moments for us to dissect later. Maybe he felt a sense of urgency, an intuition that this place was precious and ephemeral. Or perhaps he just saw a beautiful composition, framed by impending doom. What a delicious paradox! The cool, almost detached technical skill meeting the hot breath of imminent destruction. Does that resonate? Editor: Definitely! It’s that tension, I think, that makes the photograph so powerful. Thank you! Curator: My pleasure. A conversation about ruins always tells us a little bit more about the present.