Portret van de Duitse generaal-kwartiermeester Erich Ludendorff in zijn werkkamer 1918

Curator: Good morning, I'm eager to discuss this striking gelatin silver print. Dating back to 1918, it’s a photographic portrait titled "Portret van de Duitse generaal-kwartiermeester Erich Ludendorff in zijn werkkamer," now held at the Rijksmuseum. What’s your immediate reaction? Editor: It feels… muted. Subdued. The gray tones give it a historical weight, like looking through a fog of time, but there's also a sort of dullness that matches what I imagine war fatigue looked like. Is he contemplating bad news? Curator: Interesting you pick up on that. This portrait captures Ludendorff at a crucial juncture during World War I, a period of immense social and political upheaval. Situating this work within that context, what meanings might you draw from its visual language? Editor: Well, he seems deeply absorbed, almost isolated within the frame. All the objects—the chair, the desk, the paper—seem to almost compress him in the space. It speaks of burden, a weight. Though a bit too posed for my taste. It looks like it tried to conceal, more than reveal. What I’m interested in: What did those papers hold? Curator: Precisely. The carefully arranged setting within his office presents an official persona. It's important to note the power dynamics at play. The general seated behind his desk, signifying control. The weight of his decisions held on those very papers. A reflection of militarism itself. Editor: But there's such stillness, such silence. I almost hear nothing happening in the photo... Perhaps it suggests an impending quiet before a future of total turmoil. Is it me, or the image almost makes it look like he feels burdened by his actions? Almost ashamed... Curator: Ashamed maybe an anachronistic sentiment but his weariness reflects the crumbling edifice of German power and hubris during this critical period in Europe, which would reshape politics, identity, and gender roles. He appears tired, both burdened and perhaps conflicted... I read him more stoic than repentant. Editor: That’s it though, isn’t it? That ability to still evoke. All art asks questions of power. What it hides, what it allows, what it becomes. I see it, and immediately find that interesting that something so stiff is able to say so much. Curator: Agreed, indeed.