Guggenheim 637--San Francisco c. 1956

Robert Frank’s Guggenheim 637--San Francisco is a photo contact sheet, a sequence of small moments, developed sometime in the mid-20th century. The high contrast feels so graphic, yet these are photographs, moments snatched from life. The whole thing has a jumpy, staccato rhythm, like a storyboard for a film that never was. Look at the way Frank captured a parade, a chaotic sea of faces and uniforms that almost dissolves into abstraction. But then, in the middle, there's a clear shot of the back of a man’s head and shoulders, solid and still, like a grounding anchor amidst the flow. It’s as if Frank is saying, "Life is a parade, a fleeting show, but there are moments of quiet observation too." I'm reminded of Garry Winogrand, another street photographer who fearlessly dove into the chaotic theatre of the everyday. Both artists taught us to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. I think that is the point, really. It's all there if you look at it right.