Denver, Colorado 1981

Robert Adams made this photograph in Denver, Colorado, sometime in the seventies. It's a study in blacks, whites, and grays, each shade meticulously considered, almost like he's painting with light instead of pigments, thinking about how each tone meets the others. Adams' eye is drawn to the mundane, the everyday, but he elevates it. Look at the grain of the concrete, the way the sunlight hits the brick. There is a shadow of someone standing behind the two children sitting on the brick wall. And then behind them, in the window, is a reflection of someone in a helmet. All this to say, it's not just a snapshot; it’s a carefully orchestrated composition. There's a stillness, but also a sense of narrative, making you wonder about the lives of these people, what they're thinking, where they're going. I'm reminded of the New Topographics movement, how artists like Adams challenged traditional landscape photography by focusing on the impact of human development on the American West. It’s this tension between beauty and destruction, presence and absence, that makes Adams' work so compelling.