Title page 1893

Curator: This is the title page that Aubrey Beardsley designed in 1893 for Oscar Wilde’s play, *Salome*. Executed with ink, it displays Beardsley’s signature linear style and fascination with the grotesque. Editor: Grotesque is right. My first thought is this piece screams decadence and something unsettling. The dense floral patterns contrast sharply with the stark figures, it's almost claustrophobic in its detail, like ornamentation smothering any sense of serenity. Curator: It absolutely reflects the spirit of fin-de-siècle culture, which reveled in artifice and the darker aspects of human nature. Notice how the figures are archetypes themselves, reflecting complex symbolic systems. Editor: Complex is one word, chaotic is another! There's a horned figure above, a winged figure below... what do those two figures mean together? How are they placed to lure readers? To me, what jumps out is the sheer labor involved, the meticulously rendered lines that must have taken weeks, and for a book cover. Curator: Indeed. Beardsley tapped into pre-existing occult and demonic symbology, presenting us with a potent blend of allure and moral decay. The figure with horns looming above is deliberately placed as the primary symbol. Editor: Interesting, because it looks very like decoration. I would argue, that's what it is *for*: its symbolic meaning serves the purpose of getting readers to desire to open the pages inside. I wonder what sort of pens and ink he worked with to get these dark and unwavering black lines? How available were those materials at the time? It’s interesting that something so refined stems from a quite ordinary tool and base medium. Curator: His process might speak of accessible production, but this choice reinforces his vision of beauty, albeit an unnerving, corrupted one. We see cultural fears of female sexuality laid bare with his bold use of erotic art—nudity, and dark beauty side-by-side with thorny ornament. The page prepares the reader for the themes inside. Editor: In the end, what's really memorable is the physical presence of this page; how it must have felt between your fingers. You're reminded that art nouveau was also part of commercial production of books like this that could go into circulation on a larger scale than other types of "fine" art objects. Curator: Yes, an eerie prelude—it lingers in the mind long after you've put the book down. Editor: Ultimately, a clever artifact reflecting and driving desire with every calculated mark.