Convention hall—Chicago 1956

Robert Frank made this gelatin silver print, *Convention hall—Chicago*, at an undetermined date using black and white photography. Look at the way Frank uses the stark contrast in the image, he isn’t afraid to obscure detail, or let things fall into shadow. It feels like a real-time decision, the way he commits to the shot. It reminds me of the process I use when painting: sometimes it's best to just go for it, and see where the mistakes take you. The textures here are amazing. See how the tulle on the woman’s dress seems to glow, and how the darks around her make the material almost pop off the surface. And the newspapers, with their blurred headlines, feel like they’re almost disintegrating in the man's hand. Everything in this shot has a kind of tension, that pulls the surface apart, and creates meaning. It's similar to what I try to do in my paintings. Frank's work always struck me as connected to that of Garry Winogrand, who also had a knack for capturing the strange, unposed moments of life. They both remind us that art isn't always about perfection, but about embracing the messiness of experience.