Matrozen 1941 - 1945

Editor: Here we have “Matrozen,” a gelatin silver print dating from 1941 to 1945 by an anonymous photographer. It shows several snapshots arranged on a dark page, seemingly from an album. There’s a sort of ghostly, faded quality to the images, which gives it an unsettling mood. What stands out to you most about this work? Curator: The album page becomes a collage that hints at a narrative. We see candid moments - men posing outdoors, perhaps at leisure, a gathering around a table. Yet, there's also an undeniable distance, a filter of time and anonymity. Consider the period: 1941-45. What feelings does that evoke? Knowing that these pictures may capture lives during wartime gives it an inescapable gravitas. Does this feeling come across to you too, or do you read something different into this? Editor: Definitely a feeling of unease knowing they were taken during the war. It’s like peeking into a world forever changed. The subjects look so normal, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. It is both intimate and detached. The anonymous nature heightens that too. Curator: Precisely! And it begs the question: Who were these sailors, these ‘Matrozen’? What stories did they carry, and why were their memories consigned to anonymity? It almost becomes a memorial, or at least a poignant reminder of how lives, often nameless and faceless to history, are swept along. Street photography is often a search for a single truth; what do we have here? Editor: I guess what strikes me is that photography can make every subject and every moment worthy of examination. I also see that it doesn't need to have any real significance to affect someone. Curator: And perhaps that IS the significance. That even the ordinary becomes profound given the light, and shadows, of context. An accidental artwork born of life. Thank you for your time!