Twee soldaten onder een ossenvel bij Ladysmith 1899 - 1900

Editor: This gelatin-silver print, titled "Twee soldaten onder een ossenvel bij Ladysmith," which translates to "Two soldiers under an oxhide near Ladysmith," was taken by Jan van Hoepen sometime between 1899 and 1900. I am struck by the bleak, almost haunting, ordinariness of it. Two men in a desolate landscape, taking shelter. What strikes you about this image? Curator: It whispers tales of resilience to me. There's a stillness, almost a domesticity, in the scene—the men with their rifles, the cooking pot, the rudimentary tent crafted from an oxhide, it’s pure improvisation in the face of adversity. This feels so personal, immediate... Did they choose this moment, I wonder, or was it given? I am reminded of old family photos where the weight of time presses upon the emulsion, leaving us feeling both intimate and detached. What do you make of the landscape itself? Editor: The landscape feels unforgiving. So rocky, so open. They seem so exposed, despite the shelter. Curator: Exactly. The photo's landscape almost becomes another character, doesn't it? Reflecting their vulnerability while offering a rugged kind of beauty. What’s truly compelling, though, is the photojournalistic angle, how it freezes this raw slice of life. It feels a little like peeking into a diary— a quiet moment carved from the chaos. But what do *you* think it tells us about conflict? About humanity? Editor: It definitely feels human. Seeing this makes you think about the individuals involved in larger historical events. The intimacy of the photo brings the concept of war down to this scale, just a few men trying to survive. Curator: Indeed, it humanizes conflict. Beyond strategies and victories are countless personal narratives, woven into the fabric of history. Editor: Thanks, it’s fascinating to consider how such a simple scene can hold so much history and personal experience. Curator: And isn’t that the magic of art, to turn the ordinary into something extraordinary, provoking thought, stirring empathy? That's what I see, and what I'll carry with me today.