Times Square, New York City no number c. 1961

Curator: Let’s discuss Robert Frank's "Times Square, New York City no number," a gelatin-silver print made around 1961. What's your immediate response to seeing this contact sheet? Editor: Overwhelming, almost claustrophobic. It’s a raw, dense visual cacophony – like the city itself. You can almost feel the grit and hear the blare. Curator: It’s fascinating how Frank presents his work. This isn’t just one image, it’s the entire roll. You get to see his process, the multiple attempts, the slightly different angles... it demystifies the "perfect" shot. It underscores the labor and choice involved in creating the photograph. Editor: Absolutely! It reminds me of how painters used to leave sketches on show. We have these vignettes... snapshots that build to a story, don't they? Some images more focused than others. See that repeated basket of magazines? There’s an intent behind showing repetition – perhaps the unending stream of media vying for our attention? Curator: Indeed. And the fact it's gelatin silver print speaks volumes. It connects us to the traditional darkroom, the hands-on nature of production. These weren't digital files; each print was carefully considered, developed, manipulated. Also note the prominence of signage throughout: brand names, advertisement all jostling for attention... It screams consumer culture. Editor: There’s something heartbreakingly beautiful, even human, amidst that commercialism. All these fragmented glimpses suggest a deeper narrative; moments caught in the current of everyday life that seem mundane on their own but somehow add up to something complex when pieced together. Is it about urban decay? Media bombardment? Lost connections between humans in these spaces? I don't know for sure; perhaps that is Frank's genius? Curator: I would not disagree, seeing the artistic beauty within the manufacturing helps to build a bridge between what we define as 'art' versus product, revealing so much meaning and feeling along the way. Editor: Yes. So, seeing this photograph and recognizing the creative struggle of sifting, finding, producing in the landscape leaves me wondering: how can these same methods influence my craft?