http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2186984/Stories-Treblinka-Last-living-survivors-speak-horrors-haunting-memories-Nazi-death-camp.html

There is nothing to see, so you look. 

Holocaust memorial day in Israel. Israeli tv is on and I watch the recent documentary about Samuel and Kalman, the last two living survivors from Treblinka, the death factory camp, where a million Jews were exterminated in the efficiently-designed gas chambers. The article above tells their story of horror and survival. It contains some images taken on site. Grey on grey, black on black, shadings of shades composing a photographic documentation; a documentation of what the Nazis had attempted to obliterate from an unimmaginably horrific past so no-one could ever see. My generation of Israelis grew up with these shadows; from private homes to schools, television documentaries and cultural testimonials. We were taught not to forget the hard way: we were taught to look at the unseen.

Beautiful trees grow along side the hidden train tracks that led staright to Treblink's gas chambers. The road looks like a pastoral Korot painting; peaceful, perfect in its everydayness. The two men, now in their late 80's, take this road again. I think it is Kalman or was it Samuel, who both, like Lot's wife are, and had, and have been looking back straight into the bottomless black hole of horror, eye to eye, who comments “one can imagine even touching the green leaves while taking the ride”. Indeed, Anselm Kiefer's painting “Lot's Wife” features muddy, earthy train tracks, (a leitmotif in his works).

You might see the road, the trees that cover the now empty tracks, you might note the resemblane to a pastoral Korot painting, stretched like a thick, blunt facade to be lifted so you could look.