Mother and Child on Stoop 1978

Curator: It feels very tender. The textures are soft, almost blurred. I get a sense of intimacy, quietude. Editor: We’re looking at Roy DeCarava’s 1978 gelatin silver print, "Mother and Child on Stoop." Curator: Stoop-sitting – it’s an everyday occurrence, but he transforms it into something rather profound. The mother’s face is obscured, yet she's so present, like a safe harbor. I wonder about his own mother, and how this relationship perhaps resonates within him? Editor: DeCarava's work is often considered against the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement. While not overtly political, do you see the everyday experiences of Black families as an act of subtle resistance or assertion of visibility? Curator: Maybe both? He’s resisting erasure by making the ordinary monumental, showing dignity and strength in simplicity. There’s a deliberate lack of the sensationalism that often marked portrayals of Black communities. Editor: And do you find something specific in DeCarava's decision to print it in monochrome that draws the viewer in? Curator: The choice of monochrome enhances the timelessness, removing it from a specific moment. It allows us to focus on form and emotion, transcending social context somewhat, while of course never entirely escaping it. What seems almost like a classic Madonna and Child composition underscores a deep humanity that exists independent of any social structure. Editor: But isn’t that what makes his street photography so captivating? His knack for capturing beauty from the seemingly mundane speaks to the politics of simply seeing, and of bearing witness to the unadorned reality of everyday existence. Curator: True. Maybe the beauty is already there, just waiting to be noticed, waiting for someone like DeCarava to frame it and share it with us. It's as if his images tell you it’s okay to slow down and appreciate the moment. Editor: Indeed. The stoop as a public-yet-intimate stage. So much unspoken dialogue. Curator: Makes you reflect on your own origin and the person that held you so closely... Editor: And about the complex act of bearing witness that every photograph invariably stages.