Longmont, Colorado 1982 - 1992

Editor: Robert Adams' "Longmont, Colorado," a gelatin silver print made sometime between 1982 and 1992, is strangely captivating. I am getting this unsettling feeling—something about seeing just this backside of the dog stuck halfway in the foliage is funny, sad, awkward... how do you interpret a work like this? Curator: That dog, half-eaten by greenery and shadow, seems to me like a fuzzy metaphor. Adams spent so much time documenting the American West – those bleached landscapes, the scars of development. Maybe this seemingly simple shot is a tongue-in-cheek portrait of suburbia slowly, almost comically, consuming everything wild? Does it strike you as funny, or is something else poking at you? Editor: Well, there is a comedic side, for sure. But looking at the sharp contrast of the black and white, and how the fur almost glows… it’s like a little beacon in this ordinary place. Makes me wonder if Adams saw something special even in the mundane. Curator: Exactly! It's a gentle subversion, don't you think? This image invites us to pause. Is this animal lost? Or are we lost to the natural world in our suburban trappings? Editor: So, a sad photo but also an ironic symbol? A bit unsettling, but very interesting. Curator: And like any good work of art, we carry away with us whatever meanings have decided to take root, so to speak. Thanks for that wonderful perspective.