Bunker Hill Monument 1945

Curator: What an arresting photograph. There’s a somber quality, like a stage set before a play about history begins. Editor: Indeed. Here we have an albumen print from around 1945, an archive photograph showcasing the Bunker Hill Monument. The site where it’s housed is now preserved by the National Park Service! The photograph seems to be attempting to immortalize that feeling that I just described. Curator: And it does! The tones are muted, almost sepia-like. That stark obelisk jutting into the sky, framed by those quaint 19th-century buildings—it’s a scene drenched in a sense of austere reverence. I can't help but feel as though time has momentarily been stilled and crystallized right before me. What does it speak to for you? Editor: Oh, undoubtedly it encapsulates a very specific moment in American memory, burdened with layers of social meaning. It's neoclassical in its sensibility and structure, you know. I’m prompted to consider questions around monumentality itself. Who is included? What is excluded? This image feels very…selective. Curator: "Selective," you say, which calls to mind how these old photographs create their own sense of nostalgia, an idealization of the past, where only certain stories are amplified. A stark contrast to our present. I find myself imagining the photographer carefully positioning themselves to create this balanced composition. You’ve got your horizontal foreground gently ascending to this monolith dominating the upper plane. Editor: Well, there is some truth in your romantic conjecture. Albumen printing was pretty challenging because the albumen was exposed to sunlight which affected the tonality, saturation, and, in general, quality of the photo! And given what this Monument means—its narrative excludes marginalized histories in Boston. So, "selective" hits! Curator: Absolutely, it's that curated view, as we are viewing it now that is ever so poignant, which you point out and remind me of! Thinking about today, that spire feels like a marker but, to me, a place to find shelter for thought, even though what's right behind it is turbulent! It really does stand tall, if not literally, then as a subject of introspection about the bygone and our "right now". Editor: Well said! A monument holding space as we question its place, its story and history! A beautiful and critical engagement.