New York 1987

Editor: This gelatin-silver print is titled "New York," created in 1987 by Rosalind Solomon. The monochrome image captures a man in a room filled with objects. It feels intimate, almost like a candid shot into someone's personal space. What do you see in this piece from a formalist perspective? Curator: Primarily, I am struck by the stark contrast that defines the composition. The sharp transitions between light and shadow carve out distinct forms. Note the interplay of textures: the smoothness of the walls against the rough materiality of the carpet, for example. Consider, too, how the square format dictates the internal arrangement, creating a grid-like structure within the frame. Editor: I hadn’t thought of it as grid-like, but I see what you mean. Does the perspective affect your reading of the piece? Curator: Indeed. The slight high-angle viewpoint flattens the spatial depth, emphasizing the surface and pattern. Our eyes navigate between the textures and tones across a predominantly level plane. Furthermore, the strategic placement of the objects on the table—book, glasses—acts as a visual anchor, grounding the entire composition and lending structural significance. Editor: So, the forms themselves create meaning? Curator: Precisely. The forms and their relationships within the photographic frame are not mere representations but signifiers in and of themselves, establishing a unique, self-contained visual logic. They prompt us to consider photography less as an exercise of the observed and more as a practice of artistic choices and forms. Editor: I understand now. It’s fascinating how breaking down the image to its bare elements can open up new ways of thinking about the work. Thank you for showing me this. Curator: My pleasure. Formalist reading allows us a focused entry point, emphasizing critical analysis in any setting.