Gezicht op de Gasthuismolensteeg in Amsterdam 1887

Editor: Here we have Henri Frederic Oelrichs' "Gezicht op de Gasthuismolensteeg in Amsterdam," taken in 1887 using a gelatin silver print. It has a wonderful depth, drawing you right through the archway. It almost feels like stepping back in time, but also has this curious staging to it. How do you read a scene like this? Curator: I see a calculated tableau vivant frozen in time by the relatively new medium of photography. While appearing documentary, this photograph is carefully constructed to evoke a sense of place and time, but whose place and time? The presence of the windmill, an icon of Dutch identity, feels almost theatrical. Consider the figures lining the archway—who are they in relation to the space, and to each other? What stories are being intentionally included or excluded? Editor: That's fascinating. It's true, there is something theatrical about it, especially how the people are positioned at the archway entrance. Almost like figures in a play, they don't really interact with one another. Could Oelrichs be exploring some contemporary societal structure? Curator: Absolutely. Photography, as a medium, was rapidly evolving in the late 19th century, navigating its role between objective recorder and artistic expression. What are the politics embedded in this seemingly neutral depiction of urban life? Whose gaze are we adopting? The cleanliness, the order – these speak to a certain kind of controlled narrative, which inevitably excludes other experiences of Amsterdam at the time. Editor: I see what you mean. So it's not just about what’s shown, but what isn't shown. Thank you so much for shedding some light into the possible intention of the photographer! Curator: Indeed. Considering those silences can be incredibly revealing. It highlights the complex power dynamics at play in representing any place or any people. Thank you for your astute observations.