Gezicht op een drukke straat voor The Lord Nelson Inn in de wijk Cheam 1838

Curator: This watercolor and print, dating back to 1838, is called "View of a busy street in front of The Lord Nelson Inn in the Cheam district," by John Harris, currently held in the Rijksmuseum. What do you make of it? Editor: My first thought is pure clamor. A cascade of activity and dust motes hanging in the air. The way the colors wash together, it’s like the whole scene is shimmering with noise. Curator: I notice how Harris emphasizes the modes of transport. Carriages are prominently featured, showing not only how people traveled but also the societal divisions that mobility represented back then. Did you notice the details in the horse tack, carriage wheel construction, even the layered clothing styles? Editor: It does strike me as meticulously rendered, but also a little... sanitized, perhaps? Despite the supposed busyness, there’s an odd stillness, like everyone is posing rather than actively engaging. Curator: Maybe, but consider the intended audience of the prints – likely upwardly mobile middle class who enjoyed viewing scenes reflective of an active public life, and Harris captured that aspirational spirit in print. The labor involved in preparing the plate would be very precise work to get these affects, to engage with a market. Editor: Right. And perhaps that sanitization, that idealized snapshot of industry, was part of its appeal. I love thinking about the hands that actually made these prints, cranking out copies. Was it satisfying or draining to repeatedly render horses and carriages in perfect formation, over and over? Curator: Indeed, such prints gave rise to accessibility and availability of art. That romantic lens invites us to participate in, and almost literally buy into, a shared moment in time and society, where leisure and social activity become things of aesthetic enjoyment as consumer items. Editor: Absolutely. Though that romantic lens definitely colors how we experience it now too. I find myself projecting into it, imagining the smells of the horses, the rumble of wheels on cobblestone, the gossipy conversations overheard… it’s a lovely portal. Curator: Agreed, but with a very constructed point of entry for its viewers. What remains essential here is how Harris' prints offer insight to consumption and labor—a picture not just of a street, but also a picture of societal aspirations reproduced for at-home enjoyment. Editor: You’ve nudged me toward thinking less about escaping to that moment, and more about understanding what was gained—and lost—in its rendering, distribution and consumption as art. Thank you!