Ruïne van het station te Rotterdam c. 1940 - 1945

This small black and white photograph, taken by J. Nolte, captures the ruined station in Rotterdam. I imagine the artist positioned with their camera, a witness to history, trying to capture the devastation and somehow make sense of it. The scene is bleak; skeletal remains of buildings and debris scatter the foreground. There’s a somberness to the image, like a lament for what has been lost, and perhaps a fragile hope for what might be rebuilt. The texture of the print itself feels grainy, almost like dust, mirroring the scene it depicts. The composition with its low horizon line feels like the artist is empathizing with the site, as if lying low to take stock. I wonder what Nolte was thinking when they made this photograph? Was it an act of documentation, or a personal expression of grief? Photography, like painting, can freeze a moment, preserving it for future eyes and inviting contemplation. By creating an image of the ruined station, the artist connects with a larger conversation about the fragility of human creation and the persistence of memory.