Squash Stroke 1938

Curator: What a rush of blurred motion. The feeling is almost overwhelming at first glance. Editor: Yes! It's as though time itself is folding, and looping. Like some sort of ghostly ballet is unfolding, frame by frame, at impossible speed. I get the sense it almost tries to reach some level of comprehension about something vital. Curator: Harold Edgerton, an MIT professor, created "Squash Stroke" in 1938 using stroboscopic photography—a technique where rapid flashes of light capture movement in a series of frozen moments. Look at how those light bursts translate into something beautiful, that would otherwise happen to quickly for us to follow! Editor: That's such a nerdy, beautiful paradox! Taking the absolute peak of technological precision and using it to show how imprecise our senses are. Is it only me, or does this strike anyone else as intensely emotional somehow? Curator: Precisely. There's a kind of drama at play here. I see an echo of ancient iconography of deities caught in ephemeral apotheosis, leaving a trail of repeating shapes that confirm presence. It uses modernism's new found obsession with technology to express the sensation of transformation! Editor: I think there is the sensation of time folding and looping that speaks to something incredibly universal. This work doesn’t sit with the past. Instead it transcends the space and feels like a message from somewhere…or someone…caught out of time. Curator: What strikes me about this gelatin silver print is how timeless Edgerton's experimentation remains. "Squash Stroke" bridges art and science with incredible dynamism. The symbolism of motion continues to resonate. Editor: It reminds me that beauty often lives in the unseen, the ephemeral. An invitation, perhaps, to pay closer attention. It makes me think what new art we may unlock, simply by making the everyday miraculous through new eyes, perhaps new instruments. Curator: That’s a perfect final observation. Editor: A timeless piece, that speaks to this very moment.