Perrot. Jean. 33 ans, né le 18/11/61 à Tulle (Corrèze). Cordonnier. Anarchiste. 2/7/94. 1894

Editor: Here we have a gelatin-silver print titled "Perrot. Jean. 33 ans, né le 18/11/61 à Tulle (Corrèze). Cordonnier. Anarchiste. 2/7/94," made in 1894 by Alphonse Bertillon. It's intense – almost unsettling in its directness. The man's gaze, combined with the clinical detail, gives me the shivers. What do you make of it? Curator: Shivers, you say? I get that. Bertillon, see, wasn't aiming for beauty. He was head of criminal identification for the Paris police, pioneering forensic photography. This image, while strikingly intimate, served a purely bureaucratic function. Editor: A mugshot, then? But elevated, somehow? Curator: Precisely! Bertillon standardized mugshots using anthropometry. Yet, inadvertently, he created something undeniably artistic. Notice the plain backdrop, the unforgiving light—no frills, just pure observation. The writing, like some bizarre caption, offers these curt details. Is it intimacy, though, or a cold record? Editor: Both, perhaps? It makes me wonder about the life of Perrot, this anarchist cobbler, beyond this single, stark frame. Did he ever imagine his portrait would hang in the Met? Curator: Ah, now that’s the million-dollar question! Photography freezes a moment. Here, though, we get a glimpse into both a human life *and* a revolutionary chapter in the science of policing. It shows, sometimes the most rigid system allows for reflection. Editor: I suppose that is quite ironic, a deeply personal photograph emerging from something so institutional. Thank you for this, it’s given me plenty to ponder. Curator: My pleasure! The best art always invites more questions than answers, doesn't it?