A Motley Crew c. 1915

Curator: This captivating image before us is called "A Motley Crew," a photograph taken around 1915 by an anonymous artist. Editor: Immediately I feel a touch of unease, something bordering on melancholy. A group of dolls, yes, but under this light, it evokes a disquieting silence. What is this green, gritty film doing to the dolls and the overall effect? Curator: Indeed. The charm is subverted, isn't it? And technically speaking, the gritty texture indicates early photographic processes, perhaps hinting at experimentation with color or aging. Look closer—observe the textures of the doll’s clothes. Some appear mass-produced, others meticulously handmade, suggesting the spectrum of craftsmanship within even childhood objects. Editor: Exactly, a true democratization of the photographic medium—though with possibly unintentional effect here. And that’s precisely the beauty; they're testaments to the industrial, and, conversely, deeply personal investments made in crafting playthings, each doll tells its own material biography. Curator: Precisely! They seem to possess such a collective narrative. Each one embodies a moment, a memory, a different level of engagement from who, or whoever has chosen them to pose here. This artist managed to immortalize something normally so ephemeral as childhood fantasy in a very unsettling way. Editor: It truly prompts introspection on labor, mass production, and their role in shaping something as innocent as a child’s play. Do you know what kind of camera must have been used at the time? The quality of the light that bounces off them suggests certain choices of lenses or photographic printing, tonality in green perhaps. Curator: I don’t. This is where its authorship being unattributed makes a difference. What did those people care about enough, and did they leave those traces for us to read through the photographic endeavor they must have invested themselves into? And with a photograph of these play-things... It invites speculations regarding access to photography as a medium. Who would be behind this, what would the class of people using it and for what end look like? Editor: A poignant snapshot of material culture intersecting with intimate childhood narratives, even in its uncanny presentation. It is impossible not to see and admire all those factors together at work. Curator: Indeed, a visual poem composed of cloth, porcelain, and dreams caught in a moment's green-tinged embrace. A small poem to remind us where to read carefully, perhaps?