['Water-front along the Severn', 'Gun-deck-U.S.S. Santee'] before 1890

Editor: This gelatin-silver print from before 1890, by Edward H. Hart, presents us with two distinct scenes, both somber and strikingly architectural: a waterfront and the gun-deck of the U.S.S. Santee. It strikes me that the artist paired these for a reason. How do you interpret the relationship between the two, visually speaking? Curator: Indeed. If we bracket historical interpretations for the moment, the photograph provides two planes of consideration. The upper register of horizon line, foliage and ghostly vessel opposes a lower—more tactile—assemblage of planking, cannon, and iron chain. Editor: It’s almost a study in contrasts—the open vista versus the enclosed interior. Is that a tension Hart is purposefully building? Curator: The organization would support such a reading. Consider the horizon dividing earth and sky mimicked, inverted, by a ceiling enclosing the machinery of warfare. Further, light describes these two geometries in starkly different terms. We move from subtle gradations of landscape to hard articulations of shape in the under-deck. Editor: So the value of this print isn't necessarily about what it depicts, but how it uses visual forms like light, shadow, and composition to evoke meaning? Curator: Precisely. What else could one conclude about an artist who bifurcates experience into realms of pastoral contemplation and belligerent potential? One sees Hart as acutely aware of pictorial grammar. Editor: It's fascinating to look at something seemingly straightforward and uncover these layers of formal relationships. Thanks, I am finding that formalism can really provide new avenues for appreciating photographs like this. Curator: You are welcome. Analyzing in this way illuminates the choices—artistic decisions—that inform every work, photographic or otherwise. It heightens our attentiveness to form as content.