Rustende mensen op een grasveld temidden van besneeuwde heuveltoppen c. 1920 - 1945

Curator: I find this gelatin silver print, Resting People in a Meadow Amid Snow-Capped Mountain Peaks, simply arresting. Attributed to Geldolph Adriaan Kessler, its creation date falls somewhere between 1920 and 1945. What strikes you? Editor: It's haunting, in a strangely calm way. Like a picnic on the edge of forever. All that wide-open space above and those sharp mountains in the distance really give it an edge, and, you know, makes me want to write a poem! Curator: Interesting that you mention "the edge of forever." Kessler lived through two world wars, so it's worth considering what the image is doing by emphasizing themes of vulnerability in the face of overwhelming natural forces, not to mention absent authority. Editor: You're right! But I also see resilience. They're sitting there, together, picnicking like normal, almost defiant in their ordinariness. There is just the simple presence of people in community here, so they are definitely on to something. Curator: And how might we interpret that defiant ordinariness within the context of the burgeoning photographic arts scene in the interwar period? Editor: Ooh, art history buzzwords. I feel fancy! All I know is I want to be there, breathing that mountain air, sharing their unspoken story. Maybe they are all survivors! Curator: Yes, perhaps that is a fruitful reading of this work, especially with our knowledge of Kessler's life in times of turmoil. Editor: Absolutely, it speaks of finding moments of tranquility and human connection amid landscapes both beautiful and indifferent. Like finding wildflowers growing on the harshest cliffs, you know? Curator: Beautifully put. Thank you for that insight. Editor: Any time. Art's always talking to us; we just have to listen.