Times Square, New York City no number c. 1961

Editor: So, this is Robert Frank’s "Times Square, New York City no number" from around 1961, a gelatin silver print showing a contact sheet. The high contrast and raw quality give it such a gritty, immediate feel. What do you see in this piece, beyond just a document of the era? Curator: Intriguing. Let's consider the formal composition. Frank presents us with the filmstrip itself. Note how the linear progression, traditionally hidden in photography, is exposed. How does that change our perception? Editor: I guess it makes you more aware of the process, each frame a captured moment strung together, like a sequence or narrative in waiting? Curator: Precisely! It challenges the notion of the single, perfect image. We’re confronted with a series of fleeting glimpses. Note also the contrast. The stark blacks and whites heighten the sense of urban drama, almost theatrical. Does it strike you as objective or subjective? Editor: Definitely subjective. The graininess, the way some frames are almost too dark or light, they convey a specific feeling. It isn't detached observation. Curator: Good. Now consider the cropping, or lack thereof. He includes the sprocket holes. Frank seems to want to show the materiality of photography, to emphasize that this is an object. Does this directness affect how you connect with the images themselves? Editor: Yes, seeing the full strip makes it feel less precious, more like a raw visual diary. I like how it makes me focus on the choices the artist made about what to include and exclude. It's fascinating! Curator: Indeed. Frank uses the formal aspects to convey more than just a scene. By laying bare the structure of the photographic process, he emphasizes its constructed nature and invites the viewer to engage more critically with its content. Editor: I hadn’t considered it that way before. Thank you!