Drie Wehrmacht militairen 1940s

This small photograph, of three Wehrmacht soldiers, probably taken by one of them, feels accidental, like a found object. The image is softly rendered, the tones are close, the contrast is low, it’s all a bit grey, but it’s sharp enough to make out some details. It could have been an overcast day. The composition is simple: three figures, somewhere outside, maybe taking a break. But this ordinariness, this casualness, is deceptive. The eye is drawn to the man on the left, the way he is standing, his hand on his hip, the slight turn of his head, as if listening, or looking away. The softness of the image lends it a dreamlike quality, which is strange and compelling. Although it lacks definition, it's there in front of us, an artifact from a terrible period. It reminds me a little of Gerhard Richter's blurry paintings, and their uneasy relationship to the past. It feels both close and very, very far away.