Manhattan c. 1928

Walker Evans made this gelatin silver print, Manhattan, at an unknown date. I wonder what was going through Evan’s mind when he made this; it's such a strange but intriguing view. We're looking up at a skeletal billboard, maybe in the process of being built or dismantled. The steel beams crisscross, making a web against the sky and the building behind. Below, the vague image of another billboard with lettering on it. The stark shadows give the photo a graphic, almost abstract quality, which I really like. It makes me think about construction and deconstruction, the city always changing, with the old giving way to the new. It fits with Evan’s work of documenting everyday life with such clarity and formality. He finds the poetry in the mundane. Thinking about other photographers of the time and later, I am reminded of how they saw beauty and meaning in urban landscapes. He shows us how beauty can be found in the in-between spaces.