Mary and Andrea at 8 months no number 1954

Editor: This is "Mary and Andrea at 8 months no number," a 1954 gelatin silver print by Robert Frank. It's quite interesting seeing the photograph as the strips from which it was composed, there is a seriality to this image. What are your initial thoughts on it? Curator: As a materialist, my focus immediately shifts to the means of production. Look at the contact sheet itself, it is an unedited, raw form. The choices made, or not made, in printing this sheet are key. What labor and processes were avoided here, in comparison with standard modes of photographic presentation? Editor: That's an interesting way to put it. Instead of focusing on the content of the photos themselves, you're looking at how the photograph *exists* as an object. Curator: Exactly. Consider the role of chance and the photographer's hand. Was the presentation as contact sheets itself considered an avant-garde presentation that would undermine traditional darkroom processes? What's the significance of exposing all frames – including those that are blurry or less conventionally "perfect"? Does this gesture remove value for these pictures? Editor: I see your point. Presenting the photograph as the original sheet removes hierarchy, letting the viewer find images to be worthy of extraction from this index. Curator: It speaks to a shift in artistic value, doesn't it? From a singular, "perfect" image, to a deconstruction of the photographic process. The decision to exhibit the document becomes more meaningful. Does this format impact your impression of the photograph as an end in itself? Editor: It does, definitely. I now see the individual frames as just one possible cut in the artist’s act of meaning making. The labor of developing itself now becomes more valuable. Thank you for bringing that point of view to my attention. Curator: Likewise, your response highlights how this form creates a different framework. Thank you for discussing.