Wehrmacht soldaten bij een station Possibly 1941 - 1945

Curator: What immediately strikes me about this anonymous gelatin silver print, likely from somewhere between 1941 and 1945 and called “Wehrmacht soldaten bij een station”, is its incredibly unsettling mundanity. Editor: I see that too. It’s the casualness of it all, isn't it? These three soldiers at the station, one smoking, just like any snapshot of friends hanging out. But, the historical weight transforms that casualness into something deeply disturbing. It's the chilling ordinariness of evil. Curator: Exactly. The setting enhances that feeling: a nondescript train station, a familiar, everyday location made alien by the presence of the soldiers and the historical context. I imagine countless people passed through this station. What stories do those passing trains conceal? This photography reminds me of Walter Benjamin’s writing about the loss of the aura of authenticity because it’s an inexpensive, mass produced artwork in the 20th century. Editor: It also messes with our understanding of wartime photography. We expect dramatic action, clear propaganda. This image… it almost resists interpretation, inviting reflection rather than dictating a narrative. What does it tell us about the daily lives of soldiers removed from combat or any real dramatic situation? Curator: The lack of an attributed artist makes this even stranger, lending itself to a sense of this photograph as some orphaned document – what do you make of the landscape, this background space with those leafless trees? Editor: It looks bare and forlorn, almost desolate, reflecting the deeper emotional landscape of those years. It subtly reminds the viewer of displacement, not just the movement of troops but of people uprooted from their homes, and, of course, their lives. But maybe it’s just the quality of the print adding to the bleakness, but what strikes me, truly, is the strange beauty of this photograph despite all this! Curator: And that is the photograph’s insidious quality. That even in its ugliness and horror, we can be captivated, which compels us to ask…why? This work haunts and engages. Editor: It leaves you restless with its unanswered questions, long after you've walked away from it.