New York 1987

Curator: This black and white photograph, "New York," was taken by Rosalind Solomon in 1987. It's a gelatin-silver print that offers an intimate glimpse into what appears to be the artist's workspace. Editor: My first impression is one of calm amidst clutter. The figure, seemingly in a meditative state, provides a striking contrast to the surrounding disarray. Curator: Indeed. It feels like a staged self-portrait, carefully constructing a specific image of the artist herself. The surrounding objects - the boombox, the stacked tapes, and scattered artwork – speak volumes about the cultural context of that time. New York City was a hotbed of artistic innovation, and you see it right there. Editor: I agree, the environment is rich with signifiers, but there's also an intentional quality. The closed eyes might be interpreted as a withdrawal from the city, but also a dive into artistic focus. Curator: Yes, there is a tension here, visually reinforced by the opposition between the crisp, uncluttered white space of the blank page and the chaos of shapes and tones around it. As if to say: from chaos comes art, inner vision informs the blank page. I find that contrast fascinating. Think about the use of black and white – the shadows, the way light falls. It directs our gaze, creates mood... Editor: I see a more individualistic rather than socio-political commentary in this work. Consider the performative element inherent in the artist framing their own image, actively curating their legacy. It raises questions about artistic agency and how the image circulates in the art world. Curator: That is an insightful observation, particularly concerning legacy and control. Ultimately, this work captures a moment suspended in time, ripe for diverse interpretations about self, place, and the act of creation itself. Editor: Right. It's a quiet rebellion against the image economy—to turn inward and focus on one's craft is a deeply symbolic act. I think Rosalind has achieved that balance through symbolic representation.