Langston Hughes, Chicago after 1941

This silver gelatin print of Langston Hughes, was made in Chicago by Gordon Parks. Parks stages the great poet behind what looks like a window frame, his hand pressed against the glass. Look at the texture and grain of the photograph and the soft shadows, especially on Hughes’ face. He’s captured the writer's intense gaze and the somber expression. There’s such tenderness in this portrait. I can almost feel what it must have been like to be in the room with these two men. Hughes’ hand is so present, so painterly. It makes me think of a sculptor’s hand, creating form out of raw material. It’s like he’s pushing against something, maybe the barriers he faced as a Black writer in America. The gesture could be saying so many things. Parks, like all artists, stands on the shoulders of those who came before, engaging in an ongoing dialogue through their art. It reminds me that art is fundamentally an act of communication, an attempt to bridge the gaps between individuals and across generations.