Martyrdom of St Matthew after 1435

Curator: The funny thing about witnessing a martyrdom through art is that it’s inherently performative. We’re given front row seats to something deeply private, aren’t we? Editor: We are. This is Stefan Lochner’s *Martyrdom of St. Matthew*, made after 1435. It's oil on wood. And my first impression is that it is crowded. How would you begin to interpret it? Curator: Ah, Stefan Lochner… a poet with a paintbrush, capturing divine sorrow with such tender strokes. But yes, you're right; this "crowdedness" speaks volumes, doesn't it? It isn't just about St. Matthew's demise but perhaps the clambering, chaotic nature of violence itself? Look how each figure, while distinct, melds into this dance of cruelty. I sense he wants us to really sit with it... feel the pressure, the panic. Almost like the feeling when one too many uninvited guests show up at a party! Editor: It almost feels theatrical with the actors posed in place. The gold background feels unreal compared to the central staging. But is the gold background standard of the time? Curator: Exactly, the theatricality hints at something higher—or lower, depending on who you ask. The gold backdrop wasn’t only the style, of course, it sets the spiritual stage. Remind us that while this scene might unfold in a physical space, its ramifications are truly ethereal. So, tell me, seeing those figures caught mid-act…what sort of emotion resonates most for you? Editor: I guess I’m struck by the passivity in St. Matthew's face compared to the dramatic actions of his executioners. Curator: Yes, and this invites another question! Where do *we* place ourselves as observers? Is it beside the saint? Among the mob? Editor: Now that you mention it, the gold backdrop looks to me as something like the Sun, perhaps that could tie it back to St. Matthew himself? Curator: Could be, editor, could be!