Eva Herrmann 1926

Alfred Stieglitz made this photograph, Eva Herrmann, with gelatin silver. Looking at it, I imagine Stieglitz in the darkroom, coaxing the image to appear, a little at a time. There's such tenderness in this portrait. Her gaze drifts, a little shy, a little amused, like she knows something we don't. The soft light reminds me of Corot's landscapes—that hazy, silvery atmosphere that makes everything feel a little bit dreamy. I wonder, was this a fleeting moment or a carefully constructed scene? Maybe it's both. Stieglitz was so attuned to the nuances of light and shadow, he’s got such a feeling for the material. Painters like to think they invented light, but then you see a photograph like this and realize it was always there, just waiting to be captured. And that's the thing about art, isn't it? It's all one big conversation, artists borrowing from each other across time and medium, inspiring each other to see the world in new ways.