Buste van Claudia 1646 - 1670

Editor: This is "Buste van Claudia," a print made sometime between 1646 and 1670 by Hubert Quellinus, currently residing at the Rijksmuseum. It's an engraving of a classical bust, and there's something very serene and almost melancholy about her gaze. What strikes you most when you look at this piece? Curator: Oh, serenity indeed! It whispers tales of antiquity. It almost feels like stepping into a sun-drenched Roman courtyard, doesn't it? For me, the brilliance lies in how Quellinus manages to capture the coolness of stone in ink, turning a sculpted form into something that feels… fleeting, yet timeless. Notice how the delicate lines define the drapery; it’s almost liquid. It's not just an engraving; it’s breath on marble. Editor: Fleeting and timeless… That's beautifully put! So, why Claudia? Is there something significant about the subject herself, or is she more of a stand-in for classical ideals? Curator: Ah, that’s the delicious mystery, isn’t it? The "Claudia" tag certainly points to an idealized Roman woman, embodying virtues of the era. However, beyond the classical nod, it almost doesn't matter *who* she is; it’s the concept of enduring beauty, captured and then translated by Quellinus. I like to imagine her as a ghost, a fleeting essence from the past, willing to come alive. Tell me, does she prompt any feelings of that long lost familiarity when you see it? Editor: Definitely a ghost from the past! Seeing her through Quellinus's eyes makes me want to learn more about Roman ideals of beauty and the stories behind these busts. Curator: Precisely! The beauty of it isn't always the object, it's the story of what it *could* be, if that makes any sense. Editor: Absolutely, the mystery adds so much depth! Thank you for unveiling the 'ghost' for me. Curator: My pleasure!