Graveyard before village--Santa Fe, New Mexico 1955

Editor: We’re looking at Robert Frank’s gelatin silver print, “Graveyard before village--Santa Fe, New Mexico” from 1955. The scene is so still, like a paused breath, but somehow melancholic, all at once. What draws your eye in this piece? Curator: It’s interesting you say that, it really does possess that liminal, breathless quality. I’m caught by the stark contrast, and the sense of the forgotten pressing against the everyday. This image makes me think about mortality and how the past sort of always bleeds into the present, right? Especially in places like Santa Fe, layered with history. Look at the seemingly random placement of things. Did he capture it in passing? I love these glimpses. Editor: Exactly! I feel like the composition isn’t classically ‘beautiful’ and there is such a sense of a lost narrative. Why do you think Frank chose to focus on this particular juxtaposition? Curator: Perhaps he saw in this graveyard a reflection of a community’s collective memory. Maybe he felt that in the midst of life and living we forget to look. The framing creates an unease. Like maybe beauty isn't neat, pristine, or even comfortable. Editor: I agree! Now that you mention it, there's a rawness there, avoiding idealization which echoes so many other pictures from *The Americans.* What do you think a contemporary photographer might glean from Frank’s work today? Curator: Honesty, above all else. Frank wasn't trying to create pretty postcards; he was trying to capture something real, and often uncomfortable. He prompts us to see the world as it *is*, or rather as *he* sees it, with all its complexities. He dared to show his own personal truth of this space, asking others to look inward at theirs. Editor: It's amazing how much depth a seemingly simple snapshot can hold. I am thinking of how the everyday is made monumental with his works. Curator: I will walk away from this piece by Frank pondering its meaning and my own presence a bit more fully now. I wonder if I am ready to also expose some truth, the simple act of living, which really should not be simple.