Paperweight c. 1848 - 1855

Curator: Look at this “Paperweight”, crafted sometime between 1848 and 1855 by Baccarat Glassworks. It resides here at The Art Institute of Chicago, a delicate bloom preserved in glass. Editor: Wow. It’s like holding a captured breath. All the ephemeral beauty of a flower, but frozen, almost entombed. Makes you think about how we try to hold onto beauty, doesn't it? Curator: Precisely. Paperweights like this one were incredibly popular, tokens of luxury that spoke to bourgeois values: displaying domesticity, skill and owning decorative trifles like this one, showcasing craftsmanship. Editor: It feels oddly melancholy to me. The way the clear glass distorts the flower inside, its petals slightly blurry around the edges... It's as if we are seeing a dream, or a memory fading. It reminds me of pressed flowers in old books. Curator: It is interesting you note that melancholy. The form certainly invokes the traditional still-life tradition and the notion of 'memento mori' prevalent in past centuries—but in a burgeoning industrial world that aimed to immortalize nature by freezing it inside perfectly clear crystal domes, never fading, unlike pressed flowers! Editor: So, a symbol of wealth and permanence. A desire to have mastery of the natural world—encapsulated. There's almost a cruel elegance to that, the ultimate 'look, but don't touch' possessiveness. Is that the rose that everybody loves? Or is it some kind of Camelia or gardenia? Curator: Its classification isn't totally documented; that said, Baccarat was very successful in these sorts of commissions because of their mastery over millefiori and lampwork techniques. In the era it was produced, owning an object such as this allowed an individual to display their discerning tastes, as well as to participate in material culture. Editor: I find myself less drawn to the social implications and more captivated by that single splash of crimson at the flower's heart. Like a tiny, defiant pulse, contradicting all that rigid, glassy stillness. Like hope...trapped, but still flickering. A flower, a world, reduced and reborn in something solid... How about that, some serious heavy symbolism resting on our tables? Curator: It seems to resonate with you strongly. Thanks for that evocative interpretation. Editor: It did, didn’t it? Well, let’s move on to the next jewel. I wonder what frozen dreams await us next?