Schip vaart door het Suezkanaal bij een baggerschip en een kade c. 1880 - 1900

Curator: Isn't it remarkable how a single photograph can whisper so many untold stories? Looking at this albumen print by C. & G. Zangaki, entitled "Ship Sailing Through the Suez Canal Near a Dredger and a Quay," sometime between 1880 and 1900, I immediately imagine the ambitious, back-breaking labor involved in such a monumental feat of engineering. Editor: I see the shimmering surface of the water and sense a stillness, a fragile equilibrium between the colossal ship and the dwarfed figures on the embankment. The contrast between the two is quite striking, and unsettling too, somehow. Curator: Indeed, and you’ve identified the source of the tension for me: the stark dichotomy speaks volumes. We witness the raw potential of colonial-era industry shaping, quite literally, the landscape of global trade. These were very precarious circumstances, marked by immense cultural, social, and political shifts for those on the margins. Editor: I suppose those nuances of disruption are easy to forget, admiring a monochromatic vista so calmly reflected in the still waters of the canal. It’s worth mentioning that many Egyptian labourers died during construction; how easily that history becomes invisibilised in this kind of scenic photograph. It reminds me of Foucault’s work around technologies of power and how physical spaces are also cultural constructs. Curator: Precisely. I love how the mirrored quality almost allows the ships to float untethered, while the steam offers some sense of movement. These contrasts are present even in the creation of this photograph. I imagine it once gleamed sepia-toned but has gently faded and grayed to this understated monochrome over time, revealing different textures. Editor: A haunting paradox then, caught on photographic film—a landscape promising expansion and global connectivity built on a foundation of immense human cost. Curator: Which only echoes in the stillness and reflection within the image, wouldn't you agree? Editor: Absolutely. It’s a valuable and uncomfortable reminder to always question the full picture, even—or especially—when it seems serenely composed.