Untitled 1987 - 1988

Editor: Here we have an intriguing photograph, simply titled "Untitled," by Rosalind Solomon, dating from 1987 to 1988. It's a gelatin-silver print, and I find it… well, quite somber. It shows a family, but there's a real stillness, almost a melancholy, in their expressions. What strikes you most about this work? Curator: Oh, that melancholy! You’ve nailed it. It whispers of unspoken narratives, doesn't it? For me, it’s the dance between realism and something just beyond. Rosalind had this incredible gift of capturing… not just faces, but entire universes contained within them. What do you make of the setting? This slightly overgrown, perhaps even neglected, garden? Editor: I guess it contributes to that sense of… being stuck? Or forgotten, maybe. It's not a happy, manicured space. More like a refuge… or a trap. Is that too strong a word? Curator: No, not at all! I think Rosalind would've loved that word! "Trap" implies a certain kind of truth-telling, a rawness she clearly embraced. The monochromatic palette heightens this, stripping away distractions to focus on emotion. What do you think she wanted us to *feel* when looking at this, all these years later? Editor: I'm not sure! A kind of empathy, maybe? Or just an awareness that even the most ordinary-seeming moments have layers of complexity and sadness. It’s not a comfortable photograph. Curator: Exactly! It’s a conversation starter. Rosalind wasn’t interested in easy answers. She wanted us to lean in, to question, to feel… discomfort, beauty, recognition – sometimes all at once! It really makes you think, doesn’t it? Editor: Definitely! It makes me want to seek out more of her work – to delve deeper into those unspoken narratives. Curator: Yes, plunge in! The silence is where the real stories unfold.