Groep militairen 1940 - 1943

Editor: Here we have a gelatin-silver print from between 1940 and 1945, titled "Groep militairen," or "Group of Soldiers," by an anonymous artist, held at the Rijksmuseum. Looking at these multiple images within an album page, each showing soldiers in different settings, I feel a sense of distance. What stories do you think these images whisper? Curator: Whispers, indeed! I feel like I’ve stumbled upon a family album, full of echoes. The neutral tones contribute to this feeling, don’t you think? The album hints at the weight of history but seen through the incredibly intimate lens of snapshots. Are these posed shots, attempts at preserving dignity, or stolen moments of humanity amidst chaos? Maybe both? Editor: I hadn’t thought of them as potentially stolen moments. The stiff poses made me think they were formal, like official records. What makes you lean towards 'stolen'? Curator: Oh, 'stolen' only in the sense of fleeting and intensely personal. The photographer has compiled an eclectic collection of scenes - formal portraits, relaxed group photos, individuals in contemplation… the overall affect, at least to me, reveals someone quietly curating a human experience of an anonymous military campaign, framing an experience during wartime. They remind me of my own grandfather’s photos. Don't they just *smell* of faded paper and secrets? Editor: They absolutely do. It’s almost unsettling, how close these images feel, even though they are anonymous. I came looking for historical context, but I am leaving with a powerful human connection instead. Thank you. Curator: The most moving art often does that, doesn't it? Blurs the boundaries of time and connects us with the shared experience of being human, however imperfectly framed.