Acrobats, Paris 1949

This silver gelatin print, *Acrobats, Paris*, was made by Robert Frank sometime in the middle of the last century. Looking at it, I feel the urge to pull out my own camera and capture the everyday moments, much like Frank did. You know, photography, like painting, is a constant dance between control and accident. I imagine Frank wandering around Paris, his camera at the ready, waiting for that perfect alignment of people and place. The grainy texture of the print gives a sense of immediacy, as if we're right there on the streets of Paris with him. The man, dwarfed by buildings, emphasizes the precariousness of human existence. It reminds me of other street photographers like Helen Levitt, who found beauty in the ordinary. Artists are always riffing off each other, taking something old and making it new again. And ultimately, isn't that what art is all about?