Plate 1771 - 1772

Curator: Edme-Pierre Balzac’s "Plate," dating from around 1771-1772, located here at the Met, crafted in glorious, gleaming silver. What's your first thought on seeing it? Editor: Oh, simple luxury. Not a crumb on it, only light playing on the hammered surface. What kind of labor produced such gleaming elegance? Curator: A dance between craftsman and material, isn't it? Balzac, a silversmith, shaped and coaxed the metal to meet a cultural need, to elevate the act of dining to an art form, which now finds itself in our collection. Editor: Right, but think of the social structures, the class divides implied. Silver wasn't exactly mined and shaped by fairies. It represents labor, resources extracted from the earth, and ultimately, wealth concentrated in a few hands, finding their plate a home. The scratches narrate a silent story. Curator: True, and the decorative art style tells another tale! It aimed to bring beauty and harmony to everyday life; however exclusive "everyday" may have been at that time. And look at the subtle scalloped edge, a simple refinement offering delicate ornamentation in the plainest and grandest meals! Editor: Indeed. Think about what was served on it. What power dined upon it? It's easy to forget the tangible costs and power dynamics inherent to any object like this one—the metal itself bearing silent witness to the ebb and flow of human affairs. Curator: Precisely. Seeing art objects shorn of sentimentality encourages engagement with the full, often troubling scope of aesthetic intent and historic reality. The plate stops becoming merely a pristine decoration. Editor: Stops reflecting and begins to refract! And that awareness allows you to ask new questions of old treasures. Curator: A very tangible way to rethink our place at the table, literally and figuratively, here at the museum and well beyond! Editor: Agreed. A shining surface reveals more than just light. It reveals histories.