Ivy Tentacles on Glass, Chicago c. 1952

Harry Callahan made this photograph, "Ivy Tentacles on Glass, Chicago," at some point in his career, likely using a large format camera. What strikes me is the seemingly simple gesture – the delicate, almost frantic marks scattered across the frame. It's a study in contrasts, isn't it? The high contrast image captures a tension between the organic and the abstract. Those tiny, dark tendrils against the bright white background, they almost vibrate. The dots and dashes read like a strange alphabet, each a little gesture of nature clinging to a pane. Look closely at the way the light catches the edge of one of those tiny leaves, or the way a stem curves and twists. Callahan wasn't just documenting; he was isolating and framing a moment, turning something ephemeral into something lasting. It reminds me of Cy Twombly's scribbled gestures, but rooted in something real, something found. It’s about seeing the world, noticing the unexpected beauty in the everyday.