Early New York City no number c. 1949 - 1950

Editor: This is Robert Frank’s "Early New York City no number," taken around 1949 or 1950. What strikes me is that it's not a single image, but a contact print – the whole roll of film, seemingly unedited. What does this presentation say about Frank's intentions, do you think? Curator: I'm immediately drawn to the material presence of the contact sheet itself. The very nature of this contact sheet foregrounds the artist’s process. This challenges our expectations of the final, perfected image that often hangs in pristine gallery spaces, doesn't it? The process of photographing the city is on display, not concealed. Editor: Absolutely, you can see the marks of the film and all these potential images... Why present the photograph in this way? Curator: Well, by exposing the process, Frank is suggesting the work is also the making. This allows us to focus on his actions within this environment and brings awareness to how and where materials shape representation. Also, contact prints such as this are usually not displayed, but filed. That Frank displays it points to labor and valuation, making it so people value the working process as well. Editor: That’s fascinating. So it's a record of choices made or unmade. Is this is an implicit critique, then, of more traditional art production, do you think? Curator: Precisely. It highlights the labor inherent in the photographic process, subtly questioning the traditional hierarchy that elevates the "fine art" print over the more mundane, work-related steps taken for its final making. The medium becomes part of the message. Editor: It’s like we are given privileged access to his creative choices in a very democratic way. Thanks, I'm viewing contact sheets from another vantage now. Curator: And now the relationship between photography and labor for example has greater visibility in this kind of image, thank you.