Bessie and Little Richard the Morning After She Scalded Her Husband, Harlem after 1967

Gordon Parks made this photograph, Bessie and Little Richard the Morning After She Scalded Her Husband, Harlem, at some point in his career using photography. I look at the deep blacks in this image, the way the light articulates the textures of the blanket and Bessie's skirt, and I'm reminded that photography, like painting, is as much about mark-making as it is about observation. The stark contrast speaks volumes, doesn't it? The grainy texture gives everything a tangible weight, as if you could reach out and feel the rough fabric of the blanket, the softness of the child’s skin. The way the light catches on Bessie's face, the exhaustion etched in her features, it's all so raw and present. Then there’s Little Richard, his tiny fingers in his mouth. The gesture speaks of innocence amidst turmoil. Parks’s photographs often captured such intimate moments of everyday life, revealing the human condition with empathy and unflinching honesty, much like the painter Alice Neel, who similarly unflinchingly captured the psychological depths of her sitters. It’s a reminder that art, in any form, is about holding a mirror up to the world, reflecting both its beauty and its pain.