Lieutenant General Sir Colin Campbell, G.C.B. 1855

Curator: Immediately striking, isn’t it? A formidable figure emerges from Roger Fenton’s 1855 albumen print, "Lieutenant General Sir Colin Campbell, G.C.B.," now residing at The Art Institute of Chicago. What are your initial impressions? Editor: Oh, it's wonderfully brooding! There’s a weight in his gaze that hints at countless untold stories, victories hard-won, battles dearly paid for. You know, that stillness, that contained energy—it reminds me of a caged lion, somehow. A melancholic lion. Curator: The "caged" feeling is quite apt. Fenton captured this portrait amidst the Crimean War. Campbell, a celebrated veteran, projects that mix of strength and weary resignation we often see in war photography. Consider the placement of his sword, almost casually leaned against his seat - a constant reminder of duty and violence. It speaks volumes, doesn't it? Editor: Absolutely. That sword acts as a brutal punctuation mark, underscoring every unspoken sentiment. I see Romanticism clashing head-on with stark reality, truth staring unflinchingly from those aging eyes. It feels much more than a portrait. More like a quiet monument to resolve tested and a toll endured. Do you see him as a hero, a victim or perhaps some murky space in between? Curator: I see a product of his time, bound by duty to Queen and Country. Campbell was a figure of unwavering commitment to a system regardless of moral costs. It invites reflection upon concepts of valor, obedience, and the narratives constructed around war and Empire. What this photo offers is that perspective frozen. Editor: Mmm, yes, you have made me appreciate this stoic warrior! He holds something so human within those heavily weighted responsibilities. The quiet strength and enduring burdens held. Curator: The subtleties of Fenton's work allow us to unpack so many layered histories.