Peru 42 1948

Editor: This is "Peru 42," a gelatin-silver print by Robert Frank from 1948. What strikes me is how it presents photography itself – like a series of fleeting glimpses, presented as strips of film. What do you see in this work, beyond its literal depiction of, presumably, Peru? Curator: For me, this image is about memory itself. The film strip format becomes a powerful symbol. Each frame represents a fragmented moment, a partial truth. Note how Frank leaves the film's perforations visible; he is inviting us to consider not just the image, but the mechanics of seeing and remembering. It also suggests that truth is not a singular, easily accessible thing. How do these incomplete "frames" resonate with you? Editor: I think it captures the feeling of travel, that sensory overload of new sights, where everything is a bit fragmented. So it is not just *a* memory but also the *process* of creating memories while encountering new cultures and trying to grasp new experiences. The "Peru" title gives the photographs more meaning but also invites viewers to contextualize Robert Franks own impression. Curator: Precisely. Travel changes how we build memories and can change the structure and availability of how we document it as well. So this isn’t only about what Frank saw, but how we see and how the camera mediates our encounter with the world. It is a complex interplay of what is captured in film vs. captured by our mind’s eye. How might we relate this pre-digital sensibility of Frank to modern-day social media documentation and cultural preservation? Editor: I see connections. Think of Instagram grids–rows and rows of squares presenting curated memories. They echo the film strip format. Although seemingly distinct eras and artmaking modes, perhaps what it presents are fragments of a whole story, mediated by technology and the human desire to remember. I had never thought about these strips as visual metaphor. Thank you!