Untitled (Woman's face between blankets) c. 1960s

Editor: This is an untitled gelatin-silver print, taken around the 1960s, simply called "Woman's face between blankets." The image feels very intimate and a little claustrophobic. What do you see in this piece? Curator: I see a powerful statement about female vulnerability and the gaze. Think about the 1960s – a time of immense social upheaval, particularly around gender roles. This woman is both hidden and exposed. Her face is partially obscured, yet her eye confronts the viewer directly. Editor: It's interesting you say "confronts." I saw it as more…wary, or maybe even fearful. Curator: Exactly! And where does that fear originate? Perhaps from the societal expectations placed upon women, the constant surveillance, the lack of agency. The blankets could be interpreted as a form of protection, a shield against the outside world, but they are also trapping her. Editor: So, you're saying the photograph becomes a symbol of the constraints women faced during that era? Curator: Precisely. Intimacy becomes a political space. The “private” act of hiding under blankets becomes a public declaration, highlighting the psychological weight of being a woman at that time. This is a poignant image that invites us to consider how social pressures manifest in personal spaces. What do you make of the gaze in contemporary terms? Editor: Now I'm wondering, what kind of gaze am I, the viewer, enacting by looking at this photograph? It feels…complicated. I think I'll be reflecting on this photograph for a while. Curator: Me too. It seems so simple but it speaks volumes.