Alto Saxophone 1887

Curator: What a compelling sculpture—at first glance, almost elegiac. It’s Arsene-Zoe Lecomte’s "Alto Saxophone" from 1887, housed right here in the Met. What grabs you most about it? Editor: The silence. A musical instrument rendered mute—a frozen note. Considering the socio-political ferment of the late 19th century, one might read this saxophone as a symbol of silenced voices. Brass instruments often served a function for marginalized people as cultural preservation vehicles. Who was being shut out then, and whose experiences echo through this instrument now? Curator: That's potent. But looking closer, there's incredible craftsmanship; a tangible love poured into the metalwork. I’m moved by how something so precisely engineered—those delicate keys, the flared bell—can evoke such raw emotion. It practically hums with potential energy, a silent promise of jazz yet to come! Editor: I do hear you—it’s an interesting inflection point. And I agree that the craft shouldn’t be discounted as a key to a counter reading. Think of the industrial revolution as well as labor exploitation…who built this? It isn't simply the final craftsman, it’s about material origins as well as working conditions, access to resources— the saxophone embodies a whole web of relations, power dynamics, that would extend beyond its use by a performer. Curator: Exactly! It makes you ponder all that unseen labour and social capital. And just thinking about what musical innovations that were happening right around the moment it was made— imagine the hot clubs where this type of saxophone would have ended up…it all comes together so poetically, doesn’t it? Editor: The juxtaposition of the personal and the political always leaves room for new readings. A singular artifact embodying such layered meanings truly showcases the transformative potential when music transcends just performance and becomes a symbol for expression in multiple arenas of conflict. Curator: Absolutely. To look at this instrument is to listen.