Pair of tripod stands (athèniennes) 1768 - 1778

Editor: So here we have a "Pair of tripod stands (athèniennes)", crafted sometime between 1768 and 1778 by Jean-Henri Eberts. They’re made of wood and strike me as these little golden sentinels from another age, perhaps guarding the secrets of a lavish ballroom. What secrets do you think they hold, Curator? Curator: Secrets whispered in candlelight, I imagine! Or perhaps the ghost of perfumed correspondence. What I see isn't just gilded wood, but the echoes of Neoclassicism attempting to reclaim a world of virtue and reason – that attempt to reimagine a world which in turn, reimagine’s us! Doesn’t it strike you as funny, these golden attempts at restraint and supposed simplicity? Almost ironic in their ornamentation, wouldn't you agree? Editor: That's a lovely reading, particularly since Neoclassicism always felt so…stoic to me. Curator: Ah, but beneath the stoicism, there’s this underlying yearning for a purer past. Eberts, through this gilded frame, suggests that such a purity, while attainable, isn't without embellishment! Editor: So it's a nostalgic dream, polished until it gleams? I find myself questioning: what did this 'purer past' even look like? Were those 'perfect' Greek sculptures actually bright gaudy colours? What an absolute trip! Curator: Precisely! That tension is what keeps me engaged with these stands, I always wondered if the owner ever found themselves pondering on the accuracy of what they possessed and their significance? Editor: I guess those kind of debates just go around and around don't they? And maybe that's the real 'secret' of these 'golden sentinels' and, perhaps, the art that comes from every age.