Else Wachenheimer-Moos en haar echtgenoot Eugen Wachenheimer gezeten op een bankje voor een rotspartij 1936

This photograph shows Else Wachenheimer-Moos and her husband, Eugen, perched on a bench near some rocks. It's a small, unassuming picture, yet its stark black and white tones create a surprisingly tactile experience. The grainy texture, the way light catches on the rough surface of the rocks, reminds me of charcoal drawings where the artist coaxes form out of smudges and shadows. Look how the bridge, or whatever that architectural element is in the top of the image, almost dissolves into the sky. It’s as though the photographer is feeling their way through the landscape, not just recording it. The whole composition feels like a study in contrasts: the smooth faces of the couple against the jagged rocks, the solid bench and the almost dissolving landscape. There's a tension here, a push and pull between clarity and ambiguity. Like a Gerhard Richter painting, this photograph embraces uncertainty. It invites us to look beyond the surface and to find our own meaning in its depths.