Scène uit Assepoester 1867

Curator: Looking at this old stereoscopic card, I immediately feel a wave of nostalgia, a wistful dreaminess clinging to its edges like a faded scent. What do you sense in it? Editor: It strikes me as theatrical. Overcrowded, certainly. A convergence of arches leading into an implied center. Light as destiny. An allegorical procession of figures acting out some form of courtly narrative. Curator: This charming little piece is entitled "Scène uit Assepoester," dating back to 1867, by Charles Dauvois. Dauvois captured this scene using the stereoscopic technique, then popular for giving photographs a 3D effect when viewed through a special viewer. Editor: Ah, yes, Cinderella. And Dauvois captured it so perfectly! I love how Dauvois makes the theatrical setting seem dreamlike, filled with layers upon layers of characters enacting this cultural touchstone. Consider, the golden arch: portals to something miraculous! It gives such depth to the narrative and allows us a symbolic gateway to this popular fairy tale. Curator: I agree. I find myself pondering how people back then would've reacted to the image. It captures this blend of artifice and story, creating this escapist allure with a technical wonder, this stereoscopic effect. Imagine their delight viewing it in three dimensions, like peering into another world. Editor: A cultural dream! Remember, Cinderella herself, and the arch that frames her story, resonate with the power of transformation, a central yearning in many myths and folk tales, so many yearnings in that space all leading towards a miraculous transformation. The promise of finding yourself in different clothes! It’s an empowering symbol for marginalized people. Curator: Absolutely, Dauvois taps into something universal here, an endless hunger for story. It serves as a reminder of the tales we tell ourselves, the dreams that shape us, all viewed through the technology of a bygone era. Editor: An enchanting way to freeze a dream, in multiple. Thank you, Dauvois. Thank you, Cinderella. And of course, thank you for that brief portal back into 1867.