Else Wachenheimer-Moos voor een houten gebouw op de berg de Rocher de Naye, tijdens een vakantie van Eugen Wachenheimer en zijn echtgenote Else Wachenheimer-Moos door Zwitserland, augustus 1928, omgeving Montreux 1928

This small black and white photograph captures Else Wachenheimer-Moos, around August 1928, on holiday with her husband, in the Swiss mountains. There's a starkness, an almost casual snapshot quality, to the image, like a visual note jotted down amidst a longer journey. The figure, a woman in a dark coat, seems almost swallowed by the landscape. It makes you wonder about the nature of photography itself, how it tries to grasp a moment, to pin down an experience, but always falls short, always leaves something unsaid. Look at how the grey tones bleed into each other, how the texture of the snow seems both soft and grainy. It’s a simple photograph, but the starkness reminds me of the images made by another artist, Agnes Martin, who found endless subtleties within the simplest of grids. Art-making, like life, is a conversation, a back-and-forth between what we see and what we feel. And maybe, just maybe, the things that are left unsaid are the most important part of the conversation anyway.