Dave Making Muscles for Heather Possibly 1988 - 1994

Editor: So, this gelatin-silver print is titled *Dave Making Muscles for Heather*, possibly from the late 80s to early 90s, by Jim Goldberg. It's a pretty striking portrait— raw and intimate. Heather's sly, knowing smile paired with Dave's playful flexing... I'm curious about their story. What draws you to this particular image? Curator: It zings with an electric tension, doesn't it? Like a half-remembered summer afternoon crackling with hormones and bad decisions. For me, Goldberg's brilliance lies in capturing that specific blend of vulnerability and performativity. It's not just *a* moment; it's *their* moment, slightly awkward, incredibly tender, playing out on some nameless stoop. Does Dave *actually* have muscles? Who cares! He's flexing *for* someone. That changes everything. Editor: I see what you mean. It's more about the gesture and the connection than about pure physical strength. The rawness of the gelatin-silver print also adds to that intimate feel, doesn't it? Curator: Absolutely! The graininess, the high contrast – it mirrors the grit and the fleeting nature of the experience. Goldberg wasn't interested in sanitizing reality. He’s leaning right into the beautifully flawed humanity of it all. You almost feel like you're intruding on something precious. It's that stolen glance, you know? The secret language of connection. Makes you wonder what *you're* missing, doesn’t it? Editor: Definitely. The imperfections are what make it so real and relatable. It reminds you that everyone has these kinds of little, intimate performances in their lives. Thanks, that's really helpful for contextualizing what Goldberg might have been trying to capture. Curator: My pleasure! Sometimes, the most profound art lies in those seemingly insignificant, everyday moments, the messy and imperfect expressions of human connection. It is up to the viewer, such as yourself, to extract such profundity and beauty from the overlooked.