Schiphol Possibly 1946 - 1947

Editor: Here we have an gelatin-silver print called "Schiphol," likely created between 1946 and 1947 by an anonymous photographer. It is part of the Rijksmuseum collection. It’s got this open, post-war feeling about it, you know? Kind of like a collective exhale. I am really intrigued by its documentary and intimate visual language, how do you approach this work? Curator: "A collective exhale," I like that. I’m with you. The photographic realism, combined with that sense of spaciousness, hints at recovery. Think of it – Schiphol Airport was heavily damaged during the war. What we're looking at is not just an airport, but a symbol of reconnection. The cityscape theme grounds the style within its local history and geography. Don’t you feel how realism can capture not only the image of a scene but also evoke memories and lived experiences from that period? Editor: I hadn't considered the airport as a character in the photo, only the people in it. Now, I am looking closely at the airplanes in the scene. I can see small gatherings around each, probably families welcoming others. I wonder what arriving via airplane would have represented in the 1940s. Curator: In that historical moment, flying wasn't commonplace; it was the extraordinary experience. People pictured in the airport weren't necessarily accustomed to luxury, it represents possibility. It opens the mind! Think of it, this anonymous artist captured something that spoke to broader hopes beyond immediate hardship and immediate necessities. What does the photographic choice of black and white film evoke? Editor: There is something about the lack of color and monochromatic scale, the lack of any hues, that makes everything feel a little older and classic...It invites introspection and encourages imaginative reverie. It feels so right. Curator: Right indeed! It becomes more universal, yes, and gives space to feelings rather than just surface-level observation. Editor: It is curious how one still photographic scene can transmit so many layers. It almost feels like a moving picture now! Curator: Doesn’t it? Almost like glimpsing at memory, caught between its leaving and our arrival.