Equivalent c. 1931

Editor: So, we're looking at "Equivalent," a photograph by Alfred Stieglitz, taken around 1931. It's basically an abstract cloudscape. It strikes me as incredibly moody and serene at the same time. What do you see in this piece, something more than just clouds? Curator: Well, for Stieglitz, these aren't just clouds, are they? He called them "equivalents," visual metaphors for his inner states. Think of them as emotional landscapes. Each cloud formation, each gradated shade of grey is a feeling, a fleeting thought, perhaps even a prayer. He wanted to prove that a photograph could be as evocative and expressive as painting. Do you see any shapes that make you reflect? Editor: That's fascinating! It's hard to detach them from their literal representation, but understanding they're 'equivalents' definitely reframes how I see them. It reminds me a bit of abstract expressionism, like Rothko’s color fields, just in monochrome. Curator: Exactly! Stieglitz predates that movement, but he shares that desire to tap into raw emotion through non-representational forms. What feelings do you get? A sense of limitlessness? Ephemerality? Editor: I definitely get a sense of limitlessness, it almost feels like the clouds are breathing beyond the border. But also loneliness maybe? Does that make sense? Curator: Absolutely! The beauty of art is that it mirrors our own souls back to us. The fact that these simple cloud formations evoke so much, that's Stieglitz's genius. Perhaps each viewer brings their own loneliness into it as well? Editor: I never thought about it that way before. The idea of artwork mirroring personal feelings is profound and adds a new depth to what I previously saw as just pictures of the sky. Curator: And that's the magic, isn't it? It shows us we're never just looking at a thing, we're looking *through* it.