Here There Are Blueberries Program Prologue

“What is the content of the photographic message? What does the photograph transmit? By definition, the scene itself, the literal reality.” –Roland Barthes

It’s been said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but who decides what those words say? Two people could look at the same image and they will likely notice different things—where one sees a man smiling with his dog, another may focus on the thick, inky darkness rising from the smokestacks behind them. As Barthes once claimed, photographs are inherently violent mediums; not because they contain violent things (although that is sometimes the case), but because “it fills the sight by force, and because in it nothing can be refused or transformed.”

The images of the Höcker album cannot be refused. They are snapshots of moments in time that place Nazi men and women at the scene of their crimes. At first glance, we see a row of smiling women eating blueberries from handheld tins, a light-hearted man standing with them, and an accordionist playing what we can assume to be joyful music nearby. These look like ordinary people out for a springtime picnic. But looking at this collection of photos alongside other images of the Holocaust, the meaning shifts. Smiles and normalcy amidst systematic genocide. They dreamed of blueberries while hundreds of thousands dreamed only of safety and freedom.

No matter what we may tell ourselves when we fall asleep at night, we cannot know how we would react when placed in an impossible situation. Would we risk our safety for the safety of others? Would we accept power despite the costs? The Höcker album forces us to think, to question, and to consider the darker sides of history. How do we reconcile the meticulous crafting of this album with the unspeakable events that occurred in those same places? What does this album tell us about our shared history and humanity?