Fotoalbum met foto's van de reizen die Eugen en Else Wachenheimer jaarlijks maakten rondom de viering van hun huwelijksdag en verloving (trouwdag 10 oktober 1922) Possibly 1922 - 1952

Curator: At first glance, the album’s cover feels like raw material. You immediately notice the roughness of the aged paper, the deckle edge. There's an unvarnished honesty about it. Editor: I see a repository of personal history, potentially spanning thirty years, from the Wachenheimers' wedding day in 1922 onward. This album likely represents decades of travels commemorating their union, and I'm struck by how intimate and tender such a personal archive must be. Curator: Intimacy is suggested precisely by the homemade quality. Think about the labor: someone carefully chose this paper, or perhaps even made it. Consider the adhesives involved in its construction, how the selection of these materials reflect specific processes and resourcefulness within a particular time. The paper looks as though it's on the verge of crumbling; its vulnerability makes me think about fragility. Editor: The photograph, paper and collage speak of time but also preservation, how Eugen and Else meticulously constructed an enduring artifact of their experiences. Perhaps it acted as an antidote to the trauma of their era, a testament to their commitment amidst immense social upheaval, even as Jewish citizens faced increasing restrictions on movement and persecution throughout the 1930s and 40s. These materials provide clues, they invite us to read between the lines of history, questioning whose stories get told, how, and why. Curator: The act of archiving then transforms everyday objects into objects of significant material value and I agree that this seemingly humble item can hold historical weight. Editor: Exactly. And within a family memento like this, we confront the complex interplay of identity, love, memory and trauma across generations. It invites reflection on how we use objects to construct our sense of self and the ongoing relevance of these stories in contemporary conversations about historical representation. Curator: I find myself captivated by the texture of the paper alone, a subtle marker of age and wear. Thank you. Editor: Thank you. The album quietly resonates with unspoken narratives.