Guggenheim 399--Las Vegas, Nevada 1955

Curator: Here we have Robert Frank’s “Guggenheim 399--Las Vegas, Nevada” from 1955. It’s a gelatin silver print showing a contact sheet filled with a sequence of images. Editor: Immediately, there’s a sense of frantic energy… and almost… a claustrophobia looking at so many images crammed onto one surface. Each photograph, on its own, likely captured a distinct moment. Curator: Right, Frank documented America on the move and often captured chance encounters and juxtapositions. This particular sheet shows interior shots filled with people, as well as landscapes. We glimpse hints of signage, anonymous crowds in dark suits and hats, and glowing lights that hint at neon extravagance. Editor: I notice several close-ups of people at tables. Were these candid moments capturing labor, perhaps, or recreational consumption? Are they working or playing, spending wages or frittering it away? Curator: That’s part of the picture, I think. Frank’s genius lies in creating multiple readings simultaneously. These might be workers at a lunch counter. And the sequence as a whole conveys the intense visual clamor and the somewhat lonely atmosphere of urban American life in the mid-twentieth century. I also see that his own editing and darkroom manipulation play into this feel. He's not afraid to burn and dodge. The materiality isn't slick and untouchable, its tactile. Editor: The gelatin silver print adds to this feeling. There is no sheen; it’s quite rough. The materials speak of a working process and direct access; not of a distanced consumption or untouchable aura. The sequencing invites us into his artistic process, doesn't it? I find that compelling; art exposing art making. Curator: I think you've got it exactly. He strips away some of the mystique. I leave this image feeling almost unsettled, with a yearning for understanding something just out of reach. Editor: Exactly—by showcasing this "work in progress", it reminds me that artistic endeavors are essentially just that… ongoing, ever-evolving... processes rooted in the material world. It makes me reflect on the often-overlooked labor embedded in image making and consumption.