Neerhalen van de Nederlandse vlag en hijsen van de hakenkruisvlag 1941 - 1945

This small black and white photograph, made by an anonymous artist, captures a moment of profound historical weight. It’s a scene of flags being lowered and raised; imagine the physical act of pulling and tugging, the fabric resisting. It makes me think about what it must have been like to witness such a symbolic shift, to see one identity being replaced by another. You know, it’s interesting how photographs, like paintings, can freeze a moment in time, allowing us to contemplate it from different angles. This artist, whoever they were, must have felt an urge to document the event; I sympathize with that. How many photographs have been taken that have captured the same moment? Did they know someone who was hurt by this? The graininess of the image feels almost like a veil, obscuring and revealing at once. It’s as if the very act of looking at the photograph is a process of uncovering, a search for meaning in the shadows. So much in art and life is about exchange, about changing one thing for another. What are we willing to let go of, and what new burdens will we bear?