Gezicht op roeiboten in de haven van Venetië before 1899

Curator: This is a gelatin silver print titled "View of Rowing Boats in the Port of Venice" taken before 1899 by Victor Selb. What’s your immediate reaction to this snapshot? Editor: The stillness. Paradoxical, I know, given all the activity implied by the scene. The swarm of boats...and the absence of din! There is an eerie calmness about the entire picture, captured perhaps through the softness of black and white. It's like a frozen, ghostly carnival. Curator: That’s quite astute. You’re picking up on an inherent paradox. The bustle of a Venetian celebration held within this rather subdued, almost muted visual field. The image feels very different from how we might perceive Venice today, oversaturated with colour and noise. Editor: Exactly. The image, captured in silver gelatin, flattens the scene, transforming reality into a collection of shadows and stark contrasts. Those gondolas— they resemble ancient water beetles massing! It's subtly menacing, you see? There’s power in numbers here, and the faceless figures in each boat only adds to the strange symbolism of Venetian life. Curator: There’s definitely something evocative at play here. While firmly in the Realism camp in its visual style, Victor Selb was profoundly influenced by Japonisme, visible in his composition and how he has chosen to isolate and frame an almost abstract pattern. Editor: Oh, you’re right! The high horizon line, almost flattened perspective… It does channel the aesthetics of traditional Japanese prints. But it makes the overall scene more unsettling for me, merging festival, cityscape, and water into something slightly surreal. What initially seemed charming reveals darker undertones. What could those undertones signify? The mortality inherent to celebration? The anxiety that shadows festivity? Curator: Or perhaps simply an acute visual record of Venice at that historical moment in time—capturing both her inherent vibrancy and hints of unavoidable societal complexities. A fleeting portrait imbued with symbolism which lingers for us still. Editor: Maybe it all comes down to our own projected anxieties, seeing our faces in the old tintypes we have never met. Still, you have opened up Venice to me with an unusual lens, no easy feat for a place already swamped in imagery.