Real Estate #908617 1990

Editor: So, this is Henry Wessel’s "Real Estate #908617" from 1990, a photograph that feels both incredibly ordinary and strangely captivating. It's just a picture of a house, but there's something about the light and the composition that makes me want to know more. What do you see in this piece? Curator: What do I see? A quiet scream. Hear me out. Wessel, he wasn't just snapping pictures of houses, was he? It's like he was peering into the soul of suburbia, catching it off guard. That pale pink trim—doesn’t it just whisper "unfulfilled dream"? I mean, really look at that hose coiled on the wall. Editor: A scream? I thought it was pretty quiet. It is just a picture of a suburban home! And hoses are not generally scream-inducing... Curator: Aha, but that’s the trick! Wessel’s pulling the rug out from under that placid surface. I find it darkly funny. He shows you the perfectly manicured lawn, the carefully chosen pastels, and then leaves you wondering what’s bubbling beneath. Isn't that little patch of dying shrubbery a slap in the face? That limp hose --is it being properly stored for longevity, or has it lost its mojo? Editor: Now that you mention it, there is an unsettling calm...almost artificial. I guess that’s why the ordinary feels so compelling. Like, is this all there is? Curator: Exactly! It is staged, just slightly… He exposes a kind of vacant beauty in these commonplace spaces. He doesn't give us answers, just amplifies the questions we already have about home, about belonging. Editor: So it is a conversation starter, not a definer? I was seeing an image, now I'm seeing a question mark. Curator: Yes, that photograph's job is done then, wouldn't you say? He just held the camera; we had to meet him halfway! Editor: Definitely seeing things in a new light, or a new shade of pale pink anyway. Thanks!