Leden van de Luftwaffe aan het strand 1940 - 1941

Editor: We're looking at a gelatin-silver print, titled "Leden van de Luftwaffe aan het strand" – "Members of the Luftwaffe on the Beach" – made sometime between 1940 and 1941 by an anonymous artist. It's currently held at the Rijksmuseum. The monochrome tones lend a sense of coldness, which clashes pretty hard with the ostensibly relaxed scene. What's your reading of this piece? Curator: Ah, yes, this photograph...it whispers stories, doesn't it? At first glance, it seems like a candid moment of respite – soldiers enjoying a brief escape on the shore. But it’s the almost surreal ordinariness of it that strikes me. It's like stumbling upon a misplaced memory, a forgotten fragment of a difficult history. How does it make you *feel*? Editor: I get what you mean about the surreal ordinariness. I'm mostly struck by how...young they look. And that makes it feel even more unsettling to see them in this context. Curator: Precisely! Consider the backdrop of German Expressionism that may have influenced the photographer's choice of sharp contrasts and intimate portrayal, regardless of intention. Each figure, seemingly lost in thought or buoyed by camaraderie, humanizes individuals within a dehumanizing system. Don’t you find the beach here— the meeting of land and sea—a profound symbol of both transition and potential oblivion? Editor: I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I see what you're saying. The beach as a liminal space reflecting their own uncertain futures. I keep coming back to the group dynamic. They’re physically linked, arms around each other, but their expressions… Curator: …tell another story. The artist captured a fragile moment of what might feel like unity amidst unimaginable discord, offering us a sobering mirror to the past. A poignant photograph; disturbing yet vital. Editor: Absolutely, a vital reminder that history is not just dates and events, but also faces and feelings. Thanks for highlighting that. Curator: The pleasure was all mine.