Linlithgow Palace before 1866

Curator: Before us, we have Thomas Annan's "Linlithgow Palace," a gelatin-silver print, dating to before 1866. It offers a rather haunting view, wouldn’t you agree? Editor: Indeed. It's quite serene but possesses a stark stillness. There is a tangible, palpable feeling of history clinging to its ruins. Annan situates the grand structure against placid water that becomes a perfect reflector. Given that Linlithgow Palace was a frequent residence of the Stewart monarchs and a site of immense political intrigue—Mary, Queen of Scots, was born there—Annan's choice seems charged. It evokes not just a building but centuries of power struggles, family betrayals, and a fading aristocratic way of life. Curator: Precisely. Note the tonal gradations, a testament to Annan’s mastery of the albumen print technique, achieving clarity of form and an impeccable, smooth finish. The lines are sharp, each detail crisply rendered. But is the mood not melancholy rather than triumphant? Observe how the horizontal composition, bisected by the calm loch, mirrors the palace on the shoreline. He offers us clarity rather than glorification. The play of light emphasizes the inherent geometric features of its medieval structure. Editor: Certainly, we should contextualize that choice, consider what was happening socially when Annan composed this scene. These decaying structures represented not only romantic ruins but changing social dynamics in Scotland, namely a disappearing monarchial society and, for Annan perhaps, class mobility afforded through new economic means via his successful studio in Glasgow. What is he, ultimately, showing and to whom? We must factor into our interpretations his status as a purveyor of fashionable landscape prints. Curator: Good point. Ultimately, though, what matters is the tangible presence the artist constructs for the viewer; it's that unique sensibility, evidenced within its structure and tone, that matters most to a deeper comprehension. Editor: Yes. It's a compelling window into a landscape that is physically present and, importantly, politically absent, thus making the space open for reimagining and new power structures to inhabit, whether positively or negatively.