Militair 1941 - 1945

Editor: So, this gelatin-silver print, simply titled "Militair," is an anonymous piece dating from 1941 to 1945 and residing here at the Rijksmuseum. There's something about the mundane scene – a sailor at a typewriter – that feels incredibly unsettling considering the historical context. What kind of story do you think it is trying to tell, or perhaps, conceal? Curator: It whispers, doesn't it? A staged moment perhaps? Look how meticulously he's framed, almost pressed into the service of…propaganda? I see not just a soldier, but a cog. Do you notice how the soft greys and the somewhat formal composition neutralize any hint of personal expression? The picture pretends neutrality but is that possible during wartime? What do you make of that sterile environment? Editor: The steel cabinets behind him do seem to reinforce a sense of cold institutionalization. I guess I just expected something…more overtly war-like. Is it unusual to find such subdued imagery from this period? Curator: Subversion through the mundane was definitely a tool of war. It asks: What if there is more in what's unsaid? Imagine the weight of unspoken stories hidden behind that focused gaze of our "Militair." Even the photographic style speaks volumes. Think about the inherent contrast in gelatin-silver prints - black and white representing choices: right or wrong, black or white. There's a quiet intensity, isn’t there? Like holding your breath underwater. Does the piece provoke further questions than answers, for you? Editor: Absolutely! I now look at it less as a simple portrait and more as a carefully constructed…enigma. I initially overlooked the context, blinded perhaps by its seeming simplicity. Curator: Wonderful! It's often the things we overlook that speak the loudest, isn't it? This piece acts almost as a key, and you found the door it opens...what do you think lies behind that door now?