Interieur van het Konzerthaus Berlin aan de Gendarmenmarkt in Berlijn 1873 - 1890

Curator: Take a moment with "Interieur van het Konzerthaus Berlin aan de Gendarmenmarkt in Berlijn," an albumen print, captured sometime between 1873 and 1890, by S.P. Christmann. Editor: My immediate impression is one of ghostly grandeur. There's a paleness to the light, and those tiered seats – are they empty? It evokes a very specific, perhaps idealized, moment of hushed expectation. Curator: I agree. And consider how the architecture reinforces that sense of order and hierarchy. The grand chandeliers aren't just light sources, they’re visual symbols of power and the pursuit of high culture that are central to that society’s self-image. Editor: Visually arresting, but let’s also think about the photographic process. Albumen prints involved coating paper with egg whites and light-sensitive chemicals. That’s labor-intensive. These prints were affordable enough for mass consumption as travel souvenirs. Think about the circulation of images—how the architectural might of the concert hall got reproduced on fragile materials that traveled, perhaps democratizing access to the building beyond just being there. Curator: That's an excellent point about access. Also consider the building itself. This concert hall replaced an earlier theatre which burned down. There’s something of a phoenix metaphor present—the act of rebuilding, recreating, asserting cultural permanence after destruction. That’s part of why cityscapes become imbued with symbolic meaning. Editor: Right. And someone meticulously placed those chairs. Somebody hauled the camera gear. Every aspect is made, and this perspective obscures that labor by emphasizing aesthetic unity, but, this material is an intentional choice by the photographer for reproducibility, the very medium allows for consumption and circulation of cultural imagery to travel! Curator: Ultimately, what strikes me is the photo's lasting ability to make the grandeur feel... tangible. Despite the spectral atmosphere, there’s something so enduring about the image itself, especially considering its history. Editor: And I keep coming back to that ghostly feel. It prompts questions about access, class, labor and even absence—what performances did this space hold, and for whom were they really intended?