Institute for Deaf Children, Port-au-Prince, Haiti 1995

Melanie Eve Barocas made this photograph, Institute for Deaf Children, Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and while we don’t have the date, it’s the kind of picture that could only be captured on film, where the process involves so much waiting, and the result has this incredible, silvered grey tonality. It's a picture that makes me think about texture, and what it means to see. Look at the way the light glistens on the skin of the child at the front, and the directness of his gaze. It's like he is meeting our eyes, inviting us to look at him, but not to look away. There are tears, or sweat on his face, and it feels as if we’re seeing him exactly as he is. Then look behind him, at the boy slightly to his left, staring out from the background with this expression of undisguised anger. Together their faces, with all the other half-seen faces, suggest something about the power of seeing, of acknowledging someone’s existence, and of what it means to be ignored or overlooked. I am reminded of Diane Arbus, another photographer who sought to portray overlooked members of society with incredible dignity and respect.