Untitled 

Editor: Here we have an Untitled gelatin-silver print by Miguel Rio Branco. It's a black and white photograph, and what immediately strikes me is the layering—the way the car and its occupant intersect with the cityscape behind. It feels like a captured moment, but also staged, somehow. What do you make of it? Curator: Oh, I feel the hum of the city resonating here. It's like Rio Branco caught a fragment of a dream. Gelatin-silver prints, they’ve this beautiful luminosity. Notice how the textures pop: the gloss of the car versus the peeling paint of the backdrop. It creates this…almost melancholic contrast, don't you think? He seems drawn to these border spaces. Does this image evoke a narrative for you? Editor: It does. There's something lonely about it, perhaps emphasized by the person sitting on the steps in the background, separate from the action. The driver seems almost trapped in his vehicle, divided from the world. But why the emphasis on layering— the car dominating the foreground, obscuring our view? Curator: The layers are a key to understanding Rio Branco. He's pulling you into a world that is simultaneously transparent and opaque. Reality as a series of fragmented encounters, you see? It’s like those dreams where places merge. Does the reflection change the emotional impact? Editor: Absolutely, I didn’t consider the intentional effect created by the distortions that stem from the reflections and layering. They almost create a sense of unease or alienation. Curator: Yes, a beautiful alienation. Like glancing through time. Each time you view the art, it seems to open up an entirely new dimension. Editor: I see what you mean; thanks, it has given me lots to consider. Curator: My pleasure. Sometimes, all art needs is our seeing eyes, you know?