Stringing Lights, San Jose, California 1972

Ken Graves made this photograph in San Jose, California, and called it "Stringing Lights." What strikes me is the performance, the image as a record of an event, a kind of ritual—like setting up for a holiday, but weirder. The surface is that of a black and white photograph, with a full range of grays, from the dark denim of the man's pants to the bleached-out clapboard wall. The man's face is obscured by the lights, which he seems to be wrestling with, the shadow thrown on the wall behind him adding to the sense of drama. It’s a theatrical moment, full of mundane absurdity. I think of other photographers who stage scenes—like Gregory Crewdson, maybe, or even Cindy Sherman—but Graves has a more casual, less polished feel. There’s a kind of deadpan humor at play here, a sense of the everyday made strange, which I find really compelling. It’s like a Beckett play—waiting, stringing lights, life.