Mary and Andrea at 8 months I 1954

Robert Frank made this gelatin silver print, "Mary and Andrea at 8 months I" on fiber paper. This piece presents four strips of film against a dark ground. The composition feels raw, like looking directly into the artist's process. I wonder if Frank felt a similar tenderness looking at Mary and Andrea as he did at his developed films. You know, sometimes the most interesting part isn’t the final shot, but the frames surrounding it. The outtakes, the near misses. It’s like when I'm painting and I leave the drips and mistakes, the ghosts of other choices. These accidental moments contain just as much, if not more, truth. Frank, like many photographers, plays with light and shadow, the stark contrast giving weight to otherwise fleeting moments. It reminds me of a painter layering glazes, each layer building depth and complexity. These strips feel like private sketches, experiments in seeing, and feeling. Aren't we all just trying to capture some truth on film, on canvas, in life?