Mery Horn, a hunchback condition aggravated by the heavy load of papers she carried. Hartford, Connecticut, March 1909 1909

Lewis Hine captured this image of Mery Horn, in Hartford, Connecticut, in March 1909. It's a photograph, of course, so the marks are of light and shadow, a process of capturing a moment in time rather than building up layers of paint or charcoal. The grainy texture of the image gives it a kind of immediacy, like we’re right there with Mery in that moment. The way the light falls across the brick wall behind her, it's almost like a stage set. There's a doorframe and a disembodied arm that both fade into the grey background, as if Hine had captured not just Mery but her future, or lack of one. Hine's work reminds me a lot of artists like Kathe Kollwitz, who were also interested in depicting the lives of working-class people. But while Kollwitz used the starkness of black and white to create powerful emotional statements, Hine used photography as a tool for social change, revealing the hidden lives of children like Mery and sparking a conversation about labor and exploitation. It's a reminder that art doesn't have to be pretty to be powerful.