Matrozen 1941 - 1945

Editor: Here we have “Matrozen,” an albumen print dating from 1941-1945 by an anonymous artist, preserved in the Rijksmuseum. It seems like an intimate collection of portraits. What do you see when you look at this page? Curator: I see fragments of identity, meticulously arranged during a period of immense upheaval. The photos depict sailors, and a woman—perhaps loved ones—posing stiffly. Look at the way they are arranged. They are intentionally askew. It isn’t a formal grid, right? Editor: Exactly, they're almost scattered across the page. Why do you call them fragments? Curator: Think about the historical context: The Netherlands was under Nazi occupation during those years. Photography becomes both a means of documentation, but also, for whom? Who is assembling this album? What identities are they trying to hold onto, or perhaps hide, in the face of that oppression? Are these mementos of resistance, quiet acts of defiance against erasure? The woman seems like a partner perhaps forced to become other for protection. How does this composition make you feel, knowing the probable context? Editor: I hadn't considered the active choice of disarray as resistance, that’s interesting. It definitely adds another layer of somber reflection. Curator: Yes, and note the fragility of albumen prints themselves, so easily damaged. This is more than just a collection of snapshots; it's a deliberate construction of memory under duress, highlighting the precariousness of existence and identity during wartime. The question is what is the artist hoping to tell? Editor: Wow, I’m definitely seeing this in a different light now. The seemingly simple act of collecting photos can become so much more powerful when viewed through the lens of history and social context. Curator: Exactly! It’s in these dialogues with history and theory that we unlock a deeper appreciation for art.