Untitled 1970

Editor: This untitled self-portrait by Luchita Hurtado, created in 1970 with pencil on paper, really captures your attention. There's this haunting duality to it, almost like seeing a ghost over her shoulder. What strikes you when you look at this piece? Curator: It's as though Hurtado’s inviting us into a deeply personal, almost unsettling, internal dialogue. That second face, the one looming above, it could be seen as her artistic ancestor, her higher self, or perhaps just that nagging feeling of self-doubt we all carry. It floats there, detached yet integral to the whole image. Notice the almost aggressive simplicity of the technique too – just humble pencil on paper. Editor: The way she's looking out at us, almost confrontational, makes you wonder about that "nagging self-doubt." Do you think this is how she viewed herself or maybe how she felt viewed by others? Curator: Ah, the layers! Is it self-doubt or defiant observation? That's the eternal question isn't it? Perhaps she’s saying "See me, really see me, all of me, the doubts and the strengths.” The composition forces a consideration of not just what's depicted but what’s intentionally left out, those vast blank spaces. And the choice of perspective; she is gazing down and forward, from high above to below. She sees you see her. We’re trapped in her vision, which I find profoundly moving. Don’t you think it’s rather bravely intimate? Editor: It's fascinating to consider all of those things within just a single image. I hadn't thought about the blank spaces so much, but now that you mention it, they feel so deliberate. Curator: Right? Hurtado wasn't just making pictures; she was crafting mirrors, challenging us to look both at her and within ourselves. I'm going to be contemplating that duality for some time, I think.