Amanda in The Mirror 

Editor: So, we’re looking at Nan Goldin’s, um, raw and compelling “Amanda in the Mirror,” a C-print photograph. I find it intensely personal, almost confrontational. It’s not your typical polished portrait, is it? There’s a vulnerability there. What strikes you about this work? Curator: You've nailed its intimacy right away. For me, it's the everyday theatre, you know? That brief, private act of facing yourself, which Goldin transforms into something monumental. Look at the muted palette; it’s almost cinematic, reminiscent of those raw, documentary-style films. It begs the question: are we the audience, or complicit in this moment? Does her gaze challenge you, too? Editor: Definitely, it's unsettling. It feels almost invasive. She’s applying makeup – is it about performance, or just a basic act of self-care? Curator: It's a beautiful question. Maybe it's both! Goldin often blurred the lines between the private and the public, and the performed self and the real one. Perhaps applying makeup is the ritual, and the mirror is not for vanity, but for honest confrontation. It’s this layering, the refusal to give easy answers that keeps me fascinated. What’s your take on her choice of medium? C-print feels… very now, but timeless. Editor: It feels immediate, doesn’t it? Not distanced, like an older photographic process might. Almost like a snapshot, but with so much intent behind it. Curator: Exactly. It reflects how instant relationships were then—and are still today, maybe. She seems to say, look closely—don’t just glance, but truly see. It's quite a beautiful act of defiance against surface level engagements. This work reminds us that portraits aren’t always about prettiness. Editor: That’s such a good way to look at it. Now I want to spend more time with it, unpacking those layers. Curator: Right? A mirror for the soul and the everyday... what a poignant and, at times, uncomfortable space. I am not sure how Goldin captures these moments, and how they are captured back at us, generations later.