Karl-Heinz Arndtheim, de tweede echtgenoot van Isabel Wachenheimer, schrijvend aan een bureau met een landkaart voor zich op het bureau, 1949-1955 1949 - 1955

This photograph, by an anonymous photographer and taken between 1949 and 1955, has a beautifully soft quality. It's like a pencil drawing, all muted tones and subtle shading. The image shows a man, Karl-Heinz Arndtheim, writing at a desk, with a map spread out before him. There’s a real intimacy to the image, emphasized by the way the photographer's chosen to soften the edges of the composition. You can see the desk in detail; the objects feel tangible. This is because the photographer has chosen to focus on texture and tone, rather than using light and shadow in a dramatic way. The light is spread evenly across the frame. Look closely at the way the surface of the photograph itself has aged. I think this is a reminder that the image is both a record of a moment in time, and a physical object with its own history. In a way, this photograph reminds me of Gerhard Richter’s blurred portraits – they share a similar interest in the way that photographs can blur memories. It's like a conversation between artists across time, each exploring the way images shape our understanding of the world.