From the bus 87A 1958

Editor: We're looking at Robert Frank's "From the bus 87A," a gelatin-silver print from 1958. What strikes me immediately is its raw, almost documentary feel, and of course how the photo strip has been used. How do you interpret this work? Curator: I see the gelatin-silver print as more than just a photograph. It's a material artifact of Frank’s labor. Think about it – the darkroom processes, the choices in developing and printing, the conscious decision *not* to crop individual images but present the entire roll, a kind of evidence of his working process. These strips, they are not ‘final images,’ in the traditional sense. How does the choice to present it in this way change our relationship to the content, or Frank’s intentions, do you think? Editor: It feels like we are granted access to Frank's way of seeing, to the decisions he made or rejected along the way. Seeing the frames together almost flattens the hierarchy between images; all seem to hold equal value. Curator: Exactly. The presentation disrupts notions of the "decisive moment." Frank makes no attempt to hide the mechanics of the production, no attempt to sanitize or create seamless illusions. What do you think Frank is trying to show about modern American life using this raw approach? Is it possible to talk of intent here? Editor: I think there’s definitely a critical view presented. Maybe it's that exposing the means of production lays bare the manufactured nature of the images we usually consume? Curator: Yes. He isn't just photographing American society; he's commenting on the means by which we *represent* American society. Editor: Seeing it that way gives the work so much more depth. I appreciate the breakdown of how its processes contribute to the piece's message. Curator: And hopefully makes us consider labor, processes, and intent whenever looking at artworks moving forward.