Felix Pasilis--Painters no number c. 1956

Editor: Here we have Felix Pasilis’ "Painters no number," captured around 1956 using gelatin silver print photography. It's presented as a contact sheet, with several shots displayed. I’m initially struck by how the repetition creates almost a filmic narrative, hinting at a story unfolding in a painter's studio. What catches your eye in this piece? Curator: It whispers stories of observation, doesn't it? Like peeking through a window into the artist’s creative ritual. I feel an almost voyeuristic connection to the subject, heightened by the rough, grainy quality that feels very ‘of the moment.’ Frank’s snapshot aesthetic challenges formal portraiture; instead, he’s after something rawer, truer. Notice the seemingly random arrangement of shots – a conscious rejection of the glossy magazine spread, maybe? Almost as if he is creating a new medium: part poetry, part reportage... Editor: Absolutely, the unpolished feel adds to its authenticity. I'm also intrigued by the setting itself. The painter's studio seems quite modest. Do you think there’s a commentary on the artistic life being made here? Curator: Possibly! Frank was drawn to capturing everyday existence. The gritty reality of the "everyman", far from celebrity glamor. This wasn't about idealizing artistry. Instead, perhaps Frank’s asking if the spirit of art can be found, irrespective of studio-opulence or financial comfort... It is there still art regardless...Don’t you think? Editor: I hadn’t considered it that way, but you're right; this breathes a sense of simple, unpretentious focus that’s actually really inspiring. This conversation really shifted my perspective. Curator: Mine too, indeed. Makes you question what's being created while it’s being portrayed… Food for the creative soul!