[Frederick William Fairholt] 1860s

Curator: What strikes me is how modern it feels. You could put this face on an album cover today. Editor: Absolutely. And who knew photography in the 1860s could evoke such intimacy? We are looking at an albumen print of Frederick William Fairholt. The image was created by John and Charles Watkins. The way the sepia tones capture light—it’s like a whispered secret. Curator: Whispered, indeed! The portrait seems suspended in time, his eyes holding a question. Albumen prints lend themselves so well to dreamy softness; the process involved coating paper with egg whites before applying the light-sensitive silver nitrate. A beautiful image, but somewhat clinical. Editor: But also layered with meaning. A man captured in his time, yet speaking to ours. Look at the casual arrangement of his hair, it doesn’t want to be overly structured but naturally poetic, matching a soul keen for exploration. Photography began as an objective eye. It becomes here a storyteller! The composition, very intimate for a man. It is meant to appeal? Does the viewer desire him? Curator: Oh, there you go with your subversive gaze again. However, maybe photography gave people back then what painted portraits could not; not to simply represent, but expose. It offers more immediacy and less idealisation. That's a bold proposal! And I adore the thought that it can challenge masculinity’s stereotypes. Editor: Visual symbols never stay fixed! I find the pencil-like precision fascinating as if the lens tried to be both documentarian and poet at once! A pencil line has cultural importance and the ability to translate intention in different ways. How do we wish to see? I mean. How does he wish us to see him? Curator: Yes! To understand the codes and beliefs, that framed, literally framed, perceptions is something artists play with! What do we let in? What do we reflect back? Food for thought. Editor: Definitely, this piece lingers long after a first glance. There is something quietly powerful in the unassuming pose. Curator: It leaves you with that sense of human continuity that art gives best. A moment suspended between heartbeats.