Winter--New York City I 1953 - 1954

Editor: Here we have Robert Frank’s "Winter—New York City I" from 1953-54, a gelatin silver print, displayed as a contact sheet, if I'm not mistaken. It's a compelling array of images; quite a melancholic take on a cityscape! What story do you think it tells, looking at the strip in its entirety? Curator: Ah, Robert Frank...a kindred spirit, wrestling with the soul of a place! This isn't just a cityscape, it's a haiku about fleeting moments. What do you feel when you see the repetitive nature of the frame itself combined with his subjects and tones? Editor: It's a rhythm, I think. A slightly off-kilter rhythm. Is that intentional? Curator: I think Frank found the 'off-kilter' to be truer to lived experience than any glossy postcard view. He's hinting at isolation even amidst the urban bustle. The grey seeps into everything, obscuring grand monuments of human ambition. What is speaking most poignantly to you as you move from frame to frame? Editor: It’s got to be the windows at the end, looking in to… emptiness. What do you mean, by the haiku, exactly? Curator: Well, each frame is a verse, carefully composed, yet offering only a glimpse, not the whole story. It hints at narratives rather than stating them outright, very much like a haiku. Editor: That’s helpful – each is a piece to fit with others around it, giving a wider view in total. Very cool, I might have been tempted to find the ‘perfect’ photo on here. Curator: Exactly! It reminds us that life isn't about single perfect shots but rather the accumulation of fleeting impressions.