Bruce Hayes 1993

Editor: So, here we have Nancy Andrews' 1993 gelatin silver print, "Bruce Hayes." It's a black and white image of a swimmer underwater, and it really captures this incredible sense of movement. What jumps out at you when you see it? Curator: Movement is definitely key, isn't it? It’s like a dance frozen in a single frame, all blur and flow. It reminds me of Muybridge's motion studies, but instead of clinical observation, Andrews infuses this with a beautiful lyricism. What do you make of the choice to render it in black and white? Editor: I think it intensifies the focus on the form and the water itself. Without color, it's all about the shapes and shadows, that contrast. Almost abstract, in a way. Does the medium, gelatin silver print, enhance that feeling for you? Curator: Absolutely. The texture of a gelatin silver print—the way the light catches and reflects—lends a certain depth and luminosity. You can almost feel the chill of the water. I keep thinking about the darkroom; it feels like Andrews conjured this image. Almost like magic, really. Does the angle suggest anything to you? Editor: Well, the diagonal composition, combined with the distortion from being underwater, feels dynamic, like he's shooting past us at top speed. Like we are catching just one small portion of him in a continuous trajectory, maybe? Curator: Exactly. The monochrome heightens that feeling of timelessness. This swimmer could be anyone, anytime, pushing the boundaries of human capability. It is about effort, beauty and simplicity. What have you learned about Andrews in viewing the image closely? Editor: I feel like she transformed what could be simply sport photography into an examination of movement itself. Curator: I concur completely. Andrews beautifully uses light and shadow, which renders it poetic and almost transcendent. A testament to both the athleticism and grace, as well as the photographer’s keen eye.