Man in klederdracht, staande op een zeilboot in Volendam 1920 - 1940

G. Hidderley’s photograph of a man standing on a sailboat in Volendam is an ode to texture, rendered in tones of sepia. The photograph feels very material; the rough wood of the boats, the heavy sails, the clothes of the man, they all seem tangible. Hidderley uses a shallow depth of field, throwing some areas slightly out of focus, which makes the in-focus parts pop. It’s a way of saying, “Look here, at this detail, at the texture of this rope, the grain of this wood.” It’s almost like Hidderley is inviting us to touch the image, to feel the history embedded in these objects. The eye follows the shapes of the boats, reading the name painted on the side. It reminds me of a Gerhard Richter painting, where the subject is slightly blurred, just out of reach. It reminds you that photography, like painting, is always an interpretation, a translation of reality. What is photography if not a form which embraces ambiguity?