Vice Admiral, France, 1786, from the Military Series (N224) issued by Kinney Tobacco Company to promote Sweet Caporal Cigarettes 1888

Curator: First impressions? It screams confidence to me, almost theatrically so, with that pointed finger like he's directing the whole stage. Editor: I see the cartoon-like quality, of course, but my first thought goes to the sheer labor involved in making something like this widely available in 1888, when this print was released. "Vice Admiral, France, 1786" from the Military Series. Curator: The artist’s decision to simplify the features fascinates me. I imagine Kinney Brothers Tobacco Company didn't intend to immortalize an individual. It’s a representative, an idea—*French* authority. The water-color style, like a child's picture in a textbook! Editor: Yes, precisely! The means of production – inexpensive prints distributed with cigarettes – elevates these admirals from individuals to signifiers. What were they *selling*, these tiny portraits slipped into packs of Sweet Caporals? Nostalgia? Power? Maybe just aspiration? Curator: A little of everything, I think. Look how boldly the colours pop. Those weren't the shades of war-torn reality but shades of imperial dreams, almost too brilliant to be taken seriously. Editor: Absolutely. This little trade card encapsulates much about the cultural politics of that moment. The commodification of heroism, of nationality... the cigarette companies turning history into branding. Consider the paper, the inks, the presses—all churning out dreams of admirals with every pack sold! Curator: There’s something so utterly human—and touchingly flawed—in turning ideals into pocket-sized daydreams, however commercial and silly! We are all vulnerable to the spectacle. Even now. Editor: True. And it reminds me how art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. These materials – these little cards – entered peoples’ lives, shaping perceptions of history, class, and power... then being discarded with the empty pack. Ephemeral, yet resonant.