ABSTRACT
I will start with an image (see Figure 16.1). It is a sepia photograph, probably taken in the last decade of the nineteenth century. The light enters the room from a pair of imposing Gothic windows and illuminates a scene that is fi lled with objects evoking the Middle Ages: elaborate hanging lamps, varieties of wooden furniture including a throne-like chair, and a table with artfully carved legs upon which what appears to be an ivory casket-perhaps in origin a reliquary-has been proudly placed, together with some ancient candle-sticks. It would take a long time to compile an inventory of this space, since even the walls of the room are covered with intricate wooden carvings and hung with cupboards of seeming antiquity. But the effort to itemise the individual objects proves hardly worthwhile, in the end, because the most intriguing aspect of this rich historical milieu is the human presence at the centre of it. A small but undoubtedly impressive male fi gure is ensconced in the most elaborate, and evidently one of the most uncomfortable of the ancient chairs, positioned in such a way that we cannot fail to take account of his posture. He is seated not symmetrically but in contraposto, with his right arm resting on the arm of the chair, his right knee drawn up and his left hand resting on a more relaxed left leg. He is wearing a smart double-breasted suit, not at all in keeping with all these antiquated appurtenances. His face is raised, displaying a forceful expression which might well be intended to convey the message: I am the master of this scene.
