De heilige Joris en de prinses 1508 - 1583

Editor: Right, next up we have, “Saint George and the Princess,” a pen engraving created sometime between 1508 and 1583, currently at the Rijksmuseum. It looks like a medieval fairy tale in monochrome, delicate lines sketching out a scene of rescue. But who is saving whom? There’s something so subtly ambiguous in the princess's posture that gives me pause. What are your thoughts when you look at it? Curator: It’s interesting that you pick up on that ambiguity so quickly. It resonates, doesn't it? The princess isn’t fainting into George’s arms, like in so many versions. She's present, holding something… perhaps her own fate. Maybe she's been saving herself all along. The dragon in the background – almost comical in its diminutive size – makes me wonder if the real monsters aren't the external ones, but the internal dragons we all battle. What do you make of Saint George's almost bored expression? Editor: Boredom is an interesting choice! I’d say stoic but your point is much more vivid. He’s got the job and knows what to do, so that means the engraving plays on viewer expectations, maybe poking fun at these chivalrous tropes? Curator: Precisely. Or perhaps it suggests the automation of heroism – that acts of supposed bravery become routine, even banal, over time. Does that make George any less heroic or the princess more so? I wonder. There is such tenderness in the gesture, but the weight is carried by this understated drama, or lack thereof! Editor: Hmm, I hadn’t considered that tension before. I was caught up in this idea of fairy tale rescue, failing to note it also plays on expectations. Curator: Well, that’s the trick with art, isn’t it? It presents itself one way and, often if you stay a little bit longer, starts showing different colours. And each colour will lead you to another place and meaning. I find that prospect both intimidating and exhilarating. What is your takeaway from that? Editor: Intimidating and exhilarating – sums it up beautifully!