Peru, no number 1948

Editor: Here we have Robert Frank’s “Peru, no number,” a gelatin silver print from 1948. It's a contact sheet of multiple images from Peru; a really intimate, almost voyeuristic snapshot into daily life. It feels documentary, immediate. What's your take? Curator: What strikes me immediately is the layering of narratives, the fragmented view of Peruvian life presented as a whole. It's impossible to separate this work from Frank's later, more famous project, "The Americans." He's already employing a visual language that critiques power, exposing the grit beneath the idealized facade of a nation. Editor: So you see a connection with his more explicit critique in "The Americans"? Curator: Absolutely. This is where his gaze begins to develop – the outsiders' perspective. Think about the context of 1948, a post-war world grappling with its own inequities and the rise of photojournalism. How does Frank, as a Swiss immigrant, position himself in relation to these subjects? Is he an observer, a participant, or something else entirely? Editor: I see what you mean about the gaze of an outsider, but what’s the significance of presenting these images as a contact sheet instead of individual prints? Curator: By leaving them in the raw form of the contact sheet, he refuses to sanitize the image, reminding us of the act of image-making and selection itself. It’s a subtle rebellion against the polished narratives often presented. What do you make of the composition in general? The sequencing... Editor: That's really insightful, I see your point about not sanitizing it...and honestly, it does feel like the sequencing and organization might also tell a story. Curator: Precisely! This contact sheet is less a neutral document, and more an articulation of Frank’s perspective of power, image-making and representation. Hopefully we've helped listeners see it too!