Snow with children--New York City no number 1957 - 1958

Editor: Here we have Robert Frank’s “Snow with children--New York City no number,” taken between 1957 and 1958; it's a gelatin silver print showing strips of the original negatives. It feels raw, immediate – almost like stumbling upon a forgotten memory. What story do you see within these frames? Curator: I see a visual poem reflecting Frank's outsider perspective on American society. Notice how the multiple frames invite us to consider the sequencing, not just individual moments. Knowing Frank's focus on marginalized communities, how might the presence, or even absence, of adults shape your interpretation of these children at play? Editor: That's interesting, I hadn’t considered their isolation. The snow, maybe, heightens that feeling? Curator: Exactly. Snow can symbolize purity, but also erasure – a blanketing of societal problems, perhaps? Frank arrived in the US post-war, when idealized notions of family were dominant, and racial tensions were simmering beneath the surface. This prompts the questions: Whose childhood is represented here, and whose is rendered invisible? Does the sequencing of images propose a narrative? Editor: I see the New York School influence now. The city as backdrop, life unfolding in real time… Curator: And the socio-political undercurrent. Consider how Frank’s work disrupted conventional photographic narratives, pushing viewers to question what’s left out, who benefits, and how we can critically engage with visual representation. Do you think these images serve as observation or intervention? Editor: Definitely intervention. It’s making me think about representation, about who gets to tell whose story, and the biases embedded in images. Curator: Precisely! Art challenges us to critically examine power structures, amplifying voices often silenced, including our own, to speak on behalf of justice.