Appalachia 1962

Curator: We’re looking at Milton Rogovin’s "Appalachia" from 1962, a gelatin silver print. Editor: Bleak. Strikingly bleak, almost like a ghost of a place hanging there, faded, a testament to something… difficult. Curator: Rogovin aimed to capture the dignity and resilience of working-class communities, especially those marginalized and often overlooked. His social realism lens presents us with an honest vision. The weathered textures, the ramshackle roof...it tells a story. Editor: Absolutely, and consider the textures: corrugated metal patches, rough-hewn planks, that heavy dark fabric on the washing line, and the smoke stained chimneys. Everything’s tactile, demanding we consider what it means to live *with* these materials. And to labour amongst them. Curator: It also hints at ingenuity and making do. I see resourceful solutions everywhere here, an adaptation. Clothes airing becomes a raw proclamation. We can imagine what that small space meant, and it is simultaneously everything and nothing. Editor: Precisely! Those stacked wooden blocks… crude, provisional steps. Think about the labor invested not just in mining or manufacturing in this region, but in simply maintaining a habitable space against the elements and broader forces. Curator: And notice that the house is almost enveloped by the wilderness; like nature is patiently claiming it back. You can see the sadness that comes along with hardship, but resilience blooms still among that wilderness. Editor: You're right to focus on the natural environment. The contrast is so crucial here – the dark looming of those trees, the misty quality. It pushes our sight toward what matters – this constructed building, how materials are utilized for shelter, but what kind? It really throws our relationship to these built structures into question. Curator: It’s an image soaked in a quiet sorrow, and I think there is a strange dignity too. I walk away seeing how connected our narratives become, whether intended or not. Editor: I’m leaving thinking of the unseen labor – the sourcing, patching, the continuous making-do of a space like this, all the ways value is created and extracted beyond any market transaction. Fascinating how one still photograph contains so many questions of how things become.