Wandelroutes in de Zwitserse plaatsen Flims-Dorf en Flims-Waldhaus, tijdens een vakantie van de familie Wachenheimer, augustus 1936, Zwitserland 1936 - 1938

Editor: This albumen print, titled "Wandelroutes in de Zwitserse plaatsen Flims-Dorf en Flims-Waldhaus, tijdens een vakantie van de familie Wachenheimer, augustus 1936, Zwitserland," from around 1936, gives off a nostalgic vibe with its old-fashioned presentation and grayscale tones. What aspects of this photographic collection of holiday images capture your imagination most? Curator: You know, it's the inherent stillness that strikes me first. These aren't dynamic vacation snapshots packed with people, but serene, almost meditative views of Swiss landscapes. They whisper stories, not shout them. Each little photograph is a portal; what kind of paths did this family walk? What did they talk about? Did the Wachenheimer family connect through photography, or did they disconnect? And look at the handwritten note – do you think "Spazierwege," the walking routes, are what truly mattered, or was it just being together? Editor: That's interesting. I hadn't considered the quietness of it. I was more focused on it being an antique, yet mundane…a kind of proto-Instagram travel album, just without the filters and carefully posed selfies. Do you find a tension between the supposed objectivity of photography and the subjective experience of a holiday? Curator: Absolutely! It's a manufactured memory, isn't it? The framing, the selection…the photographer is crafting a specific narrative of this vacation. Perhaps sanitizing it, removing any awkwardness or boredom. These curated views, especially knowing what awaited them in Europe in only a few years… It gives me shivers, imagining the lives encapsulated in these fragile frames, wouldn't you say? Editor: It certainly adds a layer of melancholy. Seeing a moment of carefree joy, knowing what's to come... gives a deeper resonance to this unassuming collection. Thank you for opening my eyes! Curator: My pleasure! It's in those quiet whispers that art truly sings, I find.