Exterieur van de Hervormde Kerk te Vlissingen na de brand in 1911 1911

This photograph captures the exterior of the Reformed Church in Vlissingen after the fire in 1911. It’s a stark image, all muted sepia tones, but within that, there’s a whole world of greys and browns to get lost in, like wandering through a smoky dream. I can imagine the photographer, setting up their equipment amidst the debris, trying to frame the scene, maybe feeling a little lost in the face of such destruction. What were they thinking when they clicked the shutter? Were they focused on the texture of the charred walls or the way the light filtered through the skeletal remains of the trees? I like how the trees stand in the frame, at once delicate and strong, but also remind me that even after destruction, life finds a way. For me, the image is like a muted conversation between absence and presence, destruction and resilience. It reminds me that, as artists, we're always responding to what came before. It's a continual exchange of ideas across time.