...il tomo sus simples... c. 1855

Curator: Looking at this print titled "...il tomo sus simples...", made around 1855 by Célestin Nanteuil, I can't help but feel like I'm peering into another world, or maybe a dream? Editor: Oh, absolutely. The lighting, or rather the lack of it, plunges everything into a kind of mysterious shadow-play. And is that Don Quixote rising out of the mist? There's such an uncanny quality to that central figure. Curator: It’s intriguing, isn’t it? Nanteuil has captured that specific scene where Don Quixote, guided by his... unorthodox recipe, tries to conjure a healing balm from simple ingredients. I'm particularly drawn to the inscription at the bottom; that glimpse into his alchemic ambitions feels quite touching. Editor: Alchemy is right! Don Quixote as a delusional Merlin brewing potions. I think what gets to me, even with its darkness, is the sheer humanity radiating from the group surrounding him. These folks – are they scared, amused, or just resigned to the old man's eccentricities? Their faces feel so real. Curator: It also gives the figure an imposing stature as his followers gather to assist with whatever their leader is planning. One cannot exist without the other in this moment, even if everyone knows that it is going to fail. Editor: This visual choice has weight in that light. Even madness requires an audience. The stark black-and-white rendering makes you hyper-aware of contrast. Shadows dance around hope, but also illuminate the underlying tragedy of a man lost in his own stories. Curator: Precisely! The image becomes a reflection on dreams clashing with reality. We get the yearning for the romantic heroism set against a rather grounded, almost pitiful scene of a domestic labor. I’m reminded that even in absurdity, the pursuit of a dream is essentially what makes us human. Editor: A beautiful way to put it. It really highlights how enduring certain symbols become. And it does it with a heavy dash of romance. Now I want to chase windmills.