A Moment at the Train Station
Rafael Herlich
Photographer, Germany
On April 25, 1939, Amalie Stutzmann brought her ten-year-old son Markus to Frankfurt Central Station. She was sending him away on a Kindertransport to British Mandate Palestine, his only chance to escape Nazi persecution. In a letter to a friend, she wrote: “I am sending you everything I own.” Markus arrived there safely and grew up in a youth village near Haifa. He later changed his name to Abraham Bar Ezer, built a new life, and started a family of his own. His mother, Amalie, who had worked as a nurse in Frankfurt, was deported to the Minsk ghetto in 1941 and murdered shortly afterward.
Seventy-one years later, Abraham returned to Frankfurt with his daughter and grandson to lay a Stolperstein, a small brass memorial plaque embedded in the pavement, in memory of Amalie outside their former home. He brought his grandson to the train station and showed him the platform where he had last seen his mother. Photographer Rafael Herlich accompanied them and captured that powerful moment. The photo now appears on the cover of Never Asked – Never Told, a new book that explores the lasting effects of the Holocaust across generations.
He brought his grandson to the train station and showed him the platform where he had last seen his mother.
The Stolperstein for Amalie, laid by her son Abraham outside their former home
Written by journalist Hans Riebsamen with photographs by Rafael Herlich, the book shares the stories of 31 families whose lives were shaped by the Holocaust. Many survivors remained silent about their past, unwilling to burden their children. And their children, in turn, often didn’t ask out of love, fear, or pain. But the trauma lingered. Through interviews and portraits, the book gives voice to sons, daughters, and grandchildren who describe how that legacy shaped their lives, some carrying it as a heavy weight, others transforming it into a force for remembrance and resistance.
Rafael Herlich, who has lived in Frankfurt since 1975, is widely recognized for documenting Jewish life in Germany. His photographs have been exhibited at the Jewish Museum Frankfurt, the Hessian State Parliament, and the European Parliament in Brussels. He also contributes to Jüdische Allgemeine and has published several books focused on memory, identity, and postwar Jewish experience. In Never Asked – Never Told, his lens captures not only what was lost, but also what has endured.
Humanity in the midst of tragedy
Haim Dimer
Photographer, France
In the days following the terrorist attack in Israel on 7 October 2023, I travelled there to document the heartbreaking consequences of this barbaric act. My goal was to give a voice to the families of Israeli hostages, the victims of the attack, and the relatives of soldiers involved in operations in Gaza. What emerged was a collection of photographs, that show the poignant moments and stories of courage, resilience, and solidarity that emerged in the midst of this tragedy.
Captured in a quiet moment of solidarity at Hostage Square in Tel Aviv, where he lives, is Jorge Diener, Executive Director of Hadassah International. Originally from Argentina and married to a Ukrainian, he sat down at the piano and let the music speak. A personal offering of unity, hope, and connection in a time of deep collective pain.
See Haim Dimer’s full collection here:https://haimdimer.com/en/portfolio/conflit-au-moyen-orient/
A Portrait of Survival
Bearing Witness Through a Survivor’s Portrait
James Wallis
United Kingdom
On 5 May 2024, I had the privilege of photographing Jacques Weisser at Auschwitz-Birkenau. It is a moment I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
Jacques was born in Belgium in 1945 during the final months of the Second World War. As an infant, his family was forced into hiding to escape Nazi persecution. He grew up in the shadow of a world that had tried to erase people like him, and yet he has spent much of his life dedicated to remembrance, education, and ensuring the horrors of the Holocaust are never forgotten.
Standing with him at Auschwitz was unlike anything I have ever experienced. The day was warm, with sunlight filtering through the leaves above us, but the weight of the place was inescapable. Behind Jacques, the brick barracks stood as silent witnesses to the unimaginable suffering that took place here. And there he was, a survivor, standing openly and proudly as a Jewish man in a place built to destroy him and his people.
When I lifted my camera, I felt the enormity of what I was about to capture. This was not just a portrait. It was a moment of living history. The quiet dignity in his stance, the strength in his gaze, they spoke volumes about resilience, survival, and truth.
I felt humbled and deeply honoured to be trusted with this image. In that click of the shutter, I was not just taking a photograph. I was helping to preserve a story that must continue to be told.
That day reminded me why I believe in photography so strongly. It has the power to bear witness, to honour memory, and to keep humanity alive in the face of hatred.
See more of James Wallis’ photography on Instagram @jameswallisphoto
A Journey of Identity, Connection, and Eternal Moments
Fabiana Koren
Brazil
As a Brazilian born in São Paulo to an Israeli father and a Polish mother, photography has been my passion for more than two decades.
I believe that happiness is captured in moments — a facial expression, a gesture, a glance — photography makes it eternal. And when portrayed with sensitivity, especially within my own community, it becomes even more meaningful. I truly feel privileged in my work.
I started photographing babies in 2004. I’ve always had such a passion for children that, naturally, I became deeply involved and built a strong bond with each family. Those little ones grew to become beautiful children, teenagers, and adults. Over the years, I was invited to continue photographing all the important milestones in my client’s lives.
When I founded Fabi Koren Fotografia, I noticed that many people didn’t really see themselves in the sense of recognizing their own beauty. And when they opened the photos in front of me, they would say, “Is that me?!” That’s when I found my purpose: I wanted to bring more of that joy to more people.
There’s also another aspect of my photography journey: I usually cover events related to the Jewish community I belong to. I’ve photographed hundreds of traditional events and ceremonies. My Jewish identity strongly influences my work as a photographer. Clients often say that I don’t just take pictures, I live the moment with them, and their families. My faith, my heritage, and my love for people are all present in every image I create.
The photo I’ve chosen to share here goes beyond aesthetics, it carries a soul. Among countless images, this one stands out for the way it blends beauty, symbolism, and emotion: the precise gesture, the texture of the parchment, the shine of the silver yad pointer used to follow the text from the Torah scroll, and the silent presence of faith all create a narrative that speaks directly to the heart. It’s a photograph that doesn’t just show something, but invites the viewer to feel, to connect, and to step into that sacred moment.
A Story Through the Lens
Nir Dor, Photographer
Mexico
As a photographer, I’m always searching for those moments where a single image can tell an entire story. There were two moments in particular that shaped my identity as a photographer. They happened in opposite corners of the world, but both carried the same emotional, ethical, and symbolic depth.
The first moment was in 2017, when a powerful earthquake struck Mexico. On the eve of the Jewish New Year, I watched through my lens as the Israeli Home Front Command, a search-and-rescue unit sent from Israel, landed and joined the rescue efforts. They joined local teams in the wreckage, working side by side without hesitation – no words, no ego, just pure giving.
I captured them working day and night without rest. Soldiers and commanders of all ranks, some in the makeshift command centre, others digging through the rubble. It was Israel at its finest. Far from home, yet close to the heart. One photo I took, showing dozens of Israeli rescue workers in synchronized action among the ruins, continues to remind me of the quiet strength that comes from true purpose.
The second moment was one of pride, power, and symbolism: the Israeli Air Force flyover celebrating Israel’s 70th Independence Day in 2018. I stood in Israel with my camera pointed at the open sky, and then it happened, Israeli fighter jets refuelled in mid-air, high above us, with incredible precision. It was breathtaking.
While others looked up and saw planes, I saw something more. I saw a symbol of technology, coordination, strength, and belief in the future. The photo I took of that moment, an aerial refuelling between Israeli jets soaring through the blue sky, became a lasting reminder of what Israel stands for. An Israel that rises, that builds, that looks forward.
Whether in the heartbreak of disaster or the pride of celebration, in moments of tragedy and inspiration, from shaking ground to open skies, I understood the same truth: a single image really can be worth a thousand words.
Photography for me is not just a profession. It’s a mission.
A way to convey emotion, values, identity.
A way to remember. A way to connect worlds.
And as someone who personally experienced how fragile life can be, a young soldier wounded in Lebanon, who narrowly survived, these moments were not just documentation.
They deeply moved me, gave me real strength, and reminded me again and again:
Am Yisrael Chai – the people of Israel live.
