Zeevarken before 1650

Editor: Here we have "Zeevarken," or "Sea Pig," an engraving from before 1650 by Antonio Tempesta, currently housed at the Rijksmuseum. Honestly, my first thought is...what *is* that creature? It’s so bizarre, this mashup of a pig and some sort of aquatic monster. What do you see in this piece? Curator: It tickles my fancy how it blends observation and pure imagination, doesn't it? These early naturalists were encountering a world so vastly different from their own. They relied on accounts from sailors and explorers and then had to visualize creatures they’d never seen. Editor: So it’s almost like a game of telephone, visually? Curator: Precisely! And Tempesta, with his baroque flair, doesn't disappoint. He takes the "rosmorus," the walrus, which they called a "sea pig" and then amplifies the drama with exaggerated tusks and spiky dorsal fins, making it suitably monstrous and awe-inspiring. Doesn’t it make you wonder about the role of an artist’s fantasy when documenting new discoveries? Editor: That's fascinating. I’d assumed it was purely decorative or symbolic, not based on any real animal. What about the background details, with the people? Curator: Those elements really ground it. You've got the drama of human interaction with nature. Is that person in peril being attacked or merely observing from a safe distance? It adds another layer, blurring the line between scientific illustration and narrative storytelling. Does it remind you of other fantastical representations of new species in baroque prints? Editor: Not that I can think of. But now I'm thinking about how much we trust what we see, even in scientific depictions. I won't look at historical engravings the same way again! Curator: Wonderful. And I'll be contemplating the power of rumour in image-making for weeks to come.